


Where You Are

by BettyBourbon



Series: The Black Shadow Chronicles [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Member Death, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Found Family, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Humor, Jealous Zevran, Meddling Friends, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reluctant Warden, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-11 18:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19932550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BettyBourbon/pseuds/BettyBourbon
Summary: Never in his life had Zevran encountered a beautiful noble woman standing above him, wiping the blood of his allies from her blades with the same amount of interest as if she were cleaning a kitchen knife.Her gruesome smirk was gone, replaced with a look of disinterest, border lining on bored. She paid no mind to the blood that left spots on her pale cheeks as deep, grey eyes surveyed him. One dark eyebrow was arched, but still her facial expression was torturously unreadable.“I see you haven’t killed me yet,” he said with yet another sigh.“That could be easily rectified.”





	1. Chapter 1

_How in the Maker’s name did I get here,_ she thought with a long sigh. 

Daveth had succumbed to convulsions at her feet, his body still warm. Jory had been stuck through by Duncan. Still covered in his blood, the warden held the stupidly large cup out to her. 

“You’re now called to submit yourself…”

Aurelia didn’t even hear his words as she took another deep breath. 

So, this was what her life had come to, huh? Only a few days ago, she’d been annoyed at the thought of being left behind while her father and brother went off to fight in this good forsaken excuse of a ruin. Looking back, she now would gladly be forced to spend the rest of her life in that castle if it meant she could bring back the faces that haunted her. 

_Mother. Father. Oriana. Oren. Nan. Aldous. Mallol._

“…for the greater good.”

She looked up, startled as their faces dematerialized once more to be replaced by Duncan’s. He looked weary and as if he would not hesitate to run her through. She glanced over at Alistair. He swallowed, visibly nervous. 

“You wardens really do know how to throw a welcome party,” she said under her breath as she took the chalice. She met their gaze and held it up a bit in a mock toast. 

She was not afraid of death, far from it. It would have been a welcome relief from the constant pain that pounded at her chest and gnawed at her stomach. It would be a respite to forget the faces of those she failed, that she would never again be able to see or hear or hug, if even for a moment as she faded into oblivion. 

No, what Aurelia feared most was that life from this point forward was going to be an endless trudge of existing. 

“Well,” she said with more than a tad bit of resignation. “Cheers.”

* * *

_For the love of Holy Andraste’s tits, what was she doing here?_

Since the joining, she must have asked herself that a million times, but the question was becoming a minute by minute occurrence since they’d left Flemeth’s hut. How in all of Thedas had she ended up with a former Templar and an apostate off on some ridiculous mission to unite all of Ferelden against the blight? 

It reminded her of one of those seemingly improbable hero’s tales that Aldous would tell her. As a child she’d have listened with baited breath, hanging onto every word, but now she wished that someone would have had the common sense to find an adult to take control of the situation, for between the three of them and her dog it seemed highly unlikely they’d make it to Lothering let alone Denerim without someone getting their tongue cut out first. 

Alas, they did make it to Lothering. Aurelia had all but tuned out their bickering, but could not stand it anymore as they stood there arguing over Alistair’s grief. 

“Maker take us,” Aurelia finally interjected. “If I didn’t know any better, I would swear you two had some serious unresolved sexual tension. Either let’s find the nearest tavern so you two go at it already or give it a bloody rest.”

They relented, for a short while, but soon the conversation of the treaties and where to go next came back up. Aurelia was only half paying attention. Her mind was wandering, thinking about how she could go about mounting a search for Fergus as she scratched Mac behind his ears. When she happened to glance up, she noticed that both of her human companions were staring at her expectantly. 

“What?”

“Where are we going first then?” Alistair asked. 

“Why is it up to me?”

“Well, I don’t know where we should go, you pick and I’ll follow!”

Aurelia audibly groaned, but it was drowned out as a new round of bickering followed. _Why me._

* * *

“Well, I for one am grateful to be back above ground,” Alistair said as his watch finished. He took a heavy seat next to Aurelia by the fire. 

She did not bother looking up at him, but said lightly, “Worried you lost your tan? You were starting to look a little pale.”

“I think I may be squinting for a week,” he admitted as he glanced over her shoulder. “What are you writing?”

“A journal.”

“I can see that,” he drawled. 

She finally looked up at him, her face thoughtful. “You remember what Caridin said—”

“When? You mean right before he threw himself into the fiery pit of lava? Little overdramatic in my opinion.”

“Atrast Nal Tunsha,” Aurelia said, resting her chin on her fist as she stared thoughtfully into the fire. “May you always find your way in the dark. I thought it was rather poignant. I wanted to remember it.”

She could not explain why, but in the days since they had left Orzammar, the saying had kept coming to her mind. Every time she had found herself slipping back into a depression or sliding into her grief, she could hear the golem’s deep voice. When Shale had asked her why she had destroyed the anvil, the only response that came to her was a simple one. 

Because it was the right thing to do. 

There had been no other option. To be trapped in a state of grief and remorse for hundreds of years. How could she not be willing to free another soul from that torment? 

“Why, warden, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so philosophical,” Morrigan teased. 

Leliana asked, slightly startled and slightly fascinated, from across the fire, “Did he really throw himself into lava?”

_How did I end up here,_ Aurelia thought yet again to herself. 

This time, it was not in frustration or sadness. A small smile played on her lips. They were coming more easily these days. 

A month had passed since Ostagar. With every passing day, it got easier. There were nights that she sat up with Leliana, learning to play the lute. On long trudges down the road, she would find herself trying to keep up with Sten just to attempt to get a smile out of him. She’d had drinking competitions – which she’d lost – with Oghren. Even Morrigan had let Aurelia sit beside her while at camp and ply the witch with curious questions about herself. When all else failed, Alistair could always be counted upon to notice her grim face and offer to spar.

She was becoming comfortable. There were still days that she felt guilty for just laughing. When she fell asleep at night, she still worried she’d wake up in a cold sweat having seen their bodies all over again. In battle, it was the worst. There was a blood thirsty nature to her fighting now that she’d never known before, an enjoyment. 

The disappointment at the end of every fight had not weaned, however. The disappointment that after how hard she had tried to make herself a target, here she still stood.

* * *

“I think I look nothing like her!” Morrigan practically yelled. 

Alistair clucked. “I don’t know. Give it a few hundred years—”

Aurelia bit back a groan. Maybe it was time to find another mage to join their party. She was starting to regret listening to Alistair about heading to Redcliffe next. Maybe she should change course and head straight for the Circle. It would give them both a break from each other at least. 

“I said that I look nothing like—”

“Look! A person in distress! Maker be praised!” Aurelia said gleefully as a ragged looking woman ran towards them desperate for help. She agreed immediately simply to end the argument behind her. She was so grateful for the woman’s sudden appearance she didn’t even contemplate a snarky remark about strangers’ constant need for assistance wherever they went. 

But alas. The sudden rescue was too good to be true. As soon as they approached what appeared to be an attacked caravan, assassins spilled out and a damn tree almost fell on her head. 

“You think we could get one day without someone trying to kill us?” she asked Alistair, her voice thoughtful. 

He shot her a quizzical look as he drew his sword.

“The Grey Warden dies here!”

“Oi!” Aurelia yelled back as she pulled her blades off her back. “There’s two of us!’


	2. Chapter 2

He may have been the one who caught them in an ambush, but Zevran could not help but feel that he was the one who had been taken off guard.

This all was supposed to go rather quickly. While he may have scoffed at the Warden’s abilities as little more than some high-born little girl playing at sword play, he’d known well enough what he was getting into. You did not become one of two surviving Grey Warden’s in Ferelden simply by looking pretty. No, she would fulfill the task he required of her. 

He had not been expecting her to smile, however. 

It was a dark smile, one that only tugged at one side of her mouth, as she smirked wickedly. Her eyes were ablaze with a fire that was so familiar. She was…enjoying this. The way she threw herself into the fray like a woman possessed made him pause with recognition. Not only did this woman not fear death, she was embracing it with open arms. 

“Shield!” he heard her yell as he swung his short sword at the back of the red headed archer. He was expecting the mage to throw up a barrier, but what happened next left him looking on in awe. 

The large warrior cut down the man in front of him with a final chop then sank to one knee. He placed his shield in front of him at an angle. He ducked his head quickly as the brunette rogue approached him at a run. Just as her boot hit the metal, the warrior pushed up and helped propel her jump so that she landed on the rise above, only feet away from the mage. Sure, the landing was less then graceful and needed more work but Zevran could not help but wonder. 

“How long did they practice tha—”

Then the world went dark.

* * *

“Why haven’t we just killed him yet?”

“How much you think those blades are worth? I’d wager at least a sovereign.”

“We should at least find out who hired him before we kill him.”

“What about those boots? You think they’re my size?”

“You really think there’s more than one potential assassin hire-ee? I can think of two. Tops.”

“I bet he’s got a coin purse on him.”

“Oh, for Maker’s Sake, Aurelia, can you stop thinking about loot for one second so we can—”

Zevran groaned. For a few short, blissful moments he had thought himself dead. But as he slowly opened his eyes and blinked up from the ground, he realized to his great disappointment that alas, he was alive. 

He tried to stand, but found his feet bound. Upon moving his arms, he saw that his hands, too, were tied at the wrist. 

Well, he thought as he let out a long sigh, that had not gone as planned. 

To make matters even less to his liking, his head pounded fiercely. It took several seconds of groaning and blinking before their faces stopped spinning. When they did, he had to blink several more times to make sure he was not seeing some sort of specter, for the woman before him was one of the loveliest he had ever seen and he had seen many. 

There were sharp angles to her features that looked as if they were made to be painted: a square, stubborn jaw, high cheekbones, arched, expressive eyebrows. The harsh lines were softened by full lips and large eyes. Her hair fell slightly past her ears in thick, dark waves. 

Beauty like this was only, in his experience, to be seen among the upper classes. For the poor, when blessed with such beauty, often had it marred before early adulthood by desperation and disease. Never in his life, however, had Zevran encountered a beautiful noble woman standing above him, wiping the blood of his allies from her blades with the same amount of interest as if she were cleaning a kitchen knife. 

Her gruesome smirk was gone, replaced with a look of disinterest, border lining on bored. She paid no mind to the blood that left spots on her pale cheeks as deep, grey eyes surveyed him. One dark eyebrow was arched, but still her facial expression was torturously unreadable. 

“I see you haven’t killed me yet,” he said with yet another sigh. 

“That could be easily rectified,” she responded blasély, her expression still not giving away whether she was serious or not. He saw her companions glance at each other and realized they too could not tell. 

Before he even could convince himself to stop, he began talking. He heard the words coming out of his mouth, saw the rather horrified reactions of her allies, answered her continued questions, but he did not stop to think about what it was he was telling her. He told her who he was. He confessed who it was who hired him. He rambled on about why it was he joined the Crows. It was at the point when he was telling her all the skills he could offer her from sex to lockpicking – Andraste, he was not even any good at picking locks, but still he said it – that he realized what exactly he had done. 

He had practically begged for his life. 

The life an hour ago, he’d hope to lose in one last glorious battle with this, this goddess. 

Throughout his plea, her face did not lose its air of disinterest and he became even more deeply fascinated. 

“Very well,” she said simply as she cut the ties on his wrist. “I accept your offer.”

Before he could respond, the large warrior burst out, “What?! We’re taking the assassin with us now?”

The beautiful woman – Aurelia he presumed, though they had yet to be formally introduced – cut the ties on his feet and turned her arched brow to her friend. 

“We got a murdering Qunari out of a cage in Lothering and a shit covered golum out of a town square, yet _this_ shocks you?”

The tall man groaned and wiped his hand down the side of his face. “You’re right. You went mad weeks ago.”

Zevran hummed thoughtfully as he got to his feet. “I am beginning to wonder if I shall regret not simply asking you to kill me.”

* * *

She put him to the test two days later. 

They had just finished picking off a small part of darkspawn and Aurelia kneeled over a chest, shaking it as if it would magically open if she jostled it enough. 

“Why do you think they even carry these around with them?” Aurelia asked as she surveyed it from every angle. 

“I don’t know,” Alistair sighed. “I’m still concerned about the fact that they even carry coin on them. You think there’s some Darkspawn market place down in the Deep Roads where they all go to hang out? Buy armor, get in brawls, catch up on the latest gossip, get pick pocketed?”

As if she suddenly had an idea, Aurelia’s head whipped around and her eyes were suddenly on Zevran. He blinked back at her as she pointed at him. 

“Master thief!” she practically yelled. “Time to earn your keep. Come open this.”

She beckoned him over and he groaned immediately, his mind racing to think of some excuse. 

“I—um—I—I appear to have misplaced my picks.”

Before he’d even finished the sentence, she produced one from her belt. He swallowed and took it from her as he kneeled next to her in front of the chest. Within seconds of inserting it into the lock, the pick snapped. 

“Ha ha,” he laughed humorlessly as he turned to her slowly. Rushing to remedy the situation, he quickly removed his dagger and striked the lock as hard as he could with the pommel. The chest sprang open and her could heart Alistair laughing behind him, but Aurelia only narrowed her eyes at him. 

“What other skills were you lying about being proficient at?” she asked suspiciously. 

“You think this means he’s shit in the sack?” Oghren asked, laughing along with Alistair. 

“If that is your concern, dear Warden, I can alleviate any worries,” he said quietly. “Tonight. In your tent.”

To his surprise she smirked back at him and rolled her eyes before turning her attention to the chest. 

“Alright, what in Andraste's name would a darkspawn do with a fancy vase?”


	3. Chapter 3

Aurelia heard his long, cackling laugh and looked up from her journal, not surprised in the slightest to see Zevran once again attempting to flirt with Morrigan. She nibbled the end of her quill and wondered if he was actually serious in his attempts to flatter the witch. Morrigan’s mouth was curled into a grimace and Aurelia couldn’t help but smirk slightly as she watched the two interact. 

Since he’d joined their party, it seemed like Zevran had gone out of his way to flirt with every female in the group at least once per day. When one rebuffed his attempts, he’d simply move on to the next. He took the rejection in great stride and maintained his cheery disposition easily enough. It seemed like it was simply a game to him. 

She could not help but wonder how much of his flirtations were his genuine nature and how much was his training as an assassin. They had discussed the romantic tactics he had employed with his targets among other aspects of his chosen profession earlier that day on the long trudge along the Imperial Highway. Perhaps Morrigan was right and he was simply trying to beguile his way into their food stores. 

“I think any woman would like to hear the truth of how her beauty affects a man. Do you not?”

Aurelia felt herself flush a deep red as she remembered the words he’d said to her the night before. 

_”I fancy many things. I fancy things that are beautiful and things that are strong. I fancy things that are dangerous and exciting. Would you be offended if I said I fancied you?”_ With a start, she quickly realized that the emotion bubbling at her throat like a sharp, hot poker was jealousy. 

She was actually jealous of Morrigan. Maker help her, what was coming over her? 

To her horror, Zevran caught her gaze from across the fire and a smile swept over his face before he bowed to Morrigan. Oh no, he was coming over. Get yourself together, Cousland, she scolded herself as she quickly ducked her head once more and dipped her quill into the bottle of ink that sat at her feet. She had to look busy and maybe he would not talk to her. 

No such luck. 

“Beautiful warden,” he purred as he sat down on the log next to her. “I could see you beckoning me with your eyes from across the camp.”

“Maybe we should find a healer,” she quipped. “Hallucinations are never a good sign.”

His musical laugh caused her eyes to glance up from the nonsensical words she was writing. By Andraste, he was handsome, she thought for what was not the first time. 

It wasn’t as if this was the first time an attractive man had flirted with her, but Aurelia could not explain why this instance made her feel like an anxious teenage girl all over again. At Highever, she had never really bothered to take notice of the men – and women – who had called her pretty names, tried to steal kisses in the hall, or offered to share her bed. None of them had been able to pry her attention away from her pursuits. 

It made no sense to her now, when she should be most focused on the task at hand of saving the world from the Blight, that her body would choose to tingle just from the close proximity of a somewhat handsome elf. 

Well, more than somewhat…

“What are you writing about tonight?” his voice became a purr in her ear and Aurelia stiffened. “Putting all your dirty fantasies to parchmen—”

She could not let him finish and instead snapped her journal shut, not caring that the ink was still wet. Turning to him, she asked a question that had been on her mind most of the day, “Is it true that in Antiva it would be ‘unthinkable’ for a woman to fight in battle?”

The comment Oriana had made offhandedly the night she died – the night they all had, Aurelia corrected herself – had come back to stick in Aurelia’s mind as soon as Zevran had called her beautiful the first time. His accent reminded her so much of her sister-in-law’s. Aurelia had had blood splattered across her face and dirt smeared over the front of her armor. As Oriana’s words sang in her head, she could not fathom how someone from a place where women were discouraged from fighting could truly find her of all people beautiful. 

“It would depend on how you define battle,” Zevran said. She glanced up at him and found he was looking at her, his expression curious. “True, it is not often you see the fairer sex suited in armor and wielding swords, but Antivan women are dangerous creatures in their own way.”

“With kind words and poison,” Aurelia said quietly. 

Zevran’s eyes narrowed. “Who has been telling you these things? Do you have another Antivan lover I should be insanely jealous of?”

She couldn’t help but smirk at his feigned jealousy. “My sister-in-law. She is from—” she stopped herself. It was the first time since her family’s death she’d spoken of any of them besides in passing. A small lump formed in her throat as she realized her misuse of the present tense. “ _Was_ from Antiva.”

Catching the meaning of her pause and correction, Aurelia could see Zevran frown. “Ah, she is no longer among the living. I am sorry.” 

After a few moments passed and neither of them spoke again, Zevran smiled once more and asked lightly, “But might I say, it must not be a coincidence that both you and your brother have excellent taste when choosing…companions. For we Antivans are well known to be the best lovers in Thedas.”

“Is that so?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Aurelia did not know whether she wished to kiss him or strangle him.

* * *

After their conversation by the fire the night before, Zevran watched their leader closely the next day as she took the lead on their continued march toward Redcliffe. She fell into step between Shale and her mabari. She would occasionally pull a treat out of her pocket to hand the dog. From his distance at the back of the group, he could not tell what she and the golum were discussing, but he could hear her light laughter and see the bright smile that lit up her face as she turned her head to look up at the golum. 

He had watched her these past few days and he had noticed a pattern to her behavior. 

During the day as they walked and fought and talked, she seemed at ease. She made humorous comments with a wicked glint in her eye. Each day she would find a new companion to walk beside and talk at length with about whatever it was that crossed her mind. She was carefree and easy going. 

At night, though, he could see the smile slip from her lips and her face fall into shadow. It was as if there was a dark cloud that followed her that only seemed to catch up to her when the sun hit the horizon. Her voice would fade away from the conversation and she would retreat to the fire with her journal. Not long after, she would disappear into her tent until morning. He must not have been the only one to have noticed, for it seemed he and her other followers competed for who would be the one to distract her from her thoughts at night. 

Until last night, he had assumed the mantle of leadership was hanging heavy on her shoulders. She was young yet and the responsibility of being one of two surviving members of an order charged with saving the world from the darkspawn hordes could not possibly come without the expected stress. 

It was when she had mentioned her sister-in-law and her eyes had turned dark that he realized the true cause of her nightly dejection. He recognized it all too well, for he himself had the same tendency whenever he let himself stop to think about—

He dared not even think her name now. These past few days had done him good for all the walking and the fighting had helped to ease his mind, to distract him from his misery. Not to mention, the company of all these beautiful women helped immensely. Though, he would be lying if he did not admit that there was only one woman in the camp he truly hoped would fall for his attempts at seduction. 

The fire had started to dim that night and still, he watched her. She was packing up to go to her tent and he found his moment of opportunity. 

“You look so tired my dear,” he sighed as he sat down next to her. “It’s all this constant walking and fighting. I think I know what you need.”

She did not even bother to look up at him as she strung the leather tie back around her journal. “A horse?” she asked glibly. 

“A little late for that I should think,” he laughed. He moved closer towards her and lowered his voice slightly. “My thought is this: we retire to your tent and I show you the sort of massage skills that one only learns growing up in an Antivan whorehouse.”

That caught her attention. 

She turned to look at him ever so slowly. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open as if she wanted to speak but could not find the words. He arched a brow at her. The expression on her face could either be one of horror or astonishment. Perhaps both, but he could not tell. 

Her response came slowly and with a stammer, “Are—are you suggesting what—what I think you are?”

“If you mean to ask whether or not there might be more than a massage involved, allow me simply to say you won’t be disappointed with _any_ of the techniques I’ve picked up over the years.”

She continued to stare at him with that same unreadable look and he began to worry. Had he miss stepped? Had he become too overconfident in his approach?

“I—I don’t know about this, Zevran,” she said quietly, her eyes tearing away from his as she looked anywhere but at him. 

“What is there to fear, my Grey Warden?” he asked, trying to sound light but he was genuinely curious about this reaction. “You deserve a little fun, do you not? If you’re not of a mind, however, it is no tragedy.”

“No,” the word left her mouth with such volume and such vigor that he blinked at her, startled himself. She quickly got to her feet, still refusing to meet his gaze. “I can’t. Not here. Not now.”

And like that, she was gone. He was still sitting there, staring after her in confusion as her tent flap fell shut behind her. 

What had he said? Had the delivery been wrong? Perhaps he had gravely misjudged the situation and she was not interested after all. He had been so hopeful that this would be mutually beneficial: she would get some much-needed stress relief, a distraction from her obvious pain, and he would be able to rid himself of the gnawing desire to see her laid bare beneath him. 

A half-hearted growl brought him back to the present and he turned to see Mac, the warden’s hound, shooting him a look that was much easier to decipher than that of his mistress. 

“Do tell me, noble beast, what would you have said differently?”


	4. Chapter 4

Her back leaned against his chest as his arms encircled her waist. She could feel his breath against her neck as he trailed kisses from her shoulder blade to her ear. His teeth sunk gently into her earlobe and tugged, pulling a moan from her lips at the sensation. 

His hands ghosted up her chest to her breasts. Suddenly, her already pounding heart rate sped up even further as he cupped her breasts in his hands. He squeezed gently before one hand abandoned her chest, making a slow path down her stomach towards her core. She wiggled against him in anticipation and he sighed into her ear. 

_“Aurelia—“_

Her eyes snapped open as she jolted awake. It took a few moments of deep breaths for her to regain control of her breathing. Even as the pounding in her chest slowed, she could not stop the tingling that continued between her thighs. 

Groaning, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her head into her arms. 

Why couldn’t she just go back to dreaming of dark spawn and corpses? These vivid, dirty dreams had become more and more frequent in the days since Zevran had joined their party. She barely even knew him aside from the few conversations they’d had. Why was it that regardless her body still was screaming at her to stop being so prudish and just let him into her tent already?

Her thoughts returned to his invitation from the night before and she groaned again. She must have made a fool out of herself. A blubbering idiot, is what he would think she was. He had offered her exactly what she had wanted, but instead she had turned tail and ran. There was no way he would be interested in her now. She assumed he would simply shrug the whole thing off and move on to Morrigan or Leliana. 

It would be the reasonable thing to do. He was experienced in this department - _very_ experienced from the way he made it sound. What would he want with her? An until very recently, sheltered noble’s daughter?

Her mother’s voice rang through her head suddenly. 

_”If your intent is to be a real rogue, then you’re going to need to discipline yourself and train. Otherwise you will just be another naïve, nobleman’s daughter playing make believe to pass the time.”_

Aurelia had only been five when her mother had caught her scaling the chapel roof for the dozenth time. At the time, she had thought her mother was being needlessly cruel, that the mandatory morning lessons of tumbling and hand to hand combat her mother implemented from then on were just to dissuade her from continuing down that path. Looking back now, as she sat up and grabbed her blades from behind her pillow, her mother had given Aurelia her most valuable tool. 

She had a Blight to end and an Arl to kill. There was no time for self-pity or hopeless crushes. 

* * *

Zevran did not sleep well. He had tossed and turned most of the night, not able to find a comfortable position. It didn’t help that anytime he felt himself dozing off, his mind would begin to replay the conversation he’d had hours earlier with the Warden. 

He could still see the horrified look upon her face as if she were still a few feet from him. He could see her wide gray eyes and hear her frantic rejection. 

Perhaps she had lied when she’d said his past did not bother her. Maybe she was in fact repulsed by him. Whatever the reasoning, he simply decided he must have been wrong in assuming that she had been a kindred spirit, a fellow killer who also needed a distraction from her grief. 

Yet, still he found himself watching her the next morning as she completed her ritualistic training. It was another part of her routine that he had memorized. Watching her go through the motions of kicks and jabs made the lust that was already flickering inside him smolder. When she set her blades down and began throwing herself off the ground in a series of flips and tumbles, the flames only grew larger. 

“What’s gotten into her this morning?” Alistair asked as he joined Zevran to watch his fellow warden practice. 

“What makes you ask that?” he asked, keeping his voice as casual as possible. “She seems perfectly fine to me.”

Alistair shrugged and said, “She just looks like she’s really working on the ‘smash-a-person’s-face-in-with-her-feet’ routine.” He took a mouthful of porridge from his bowl and pointed with his spoon at the tree next to Aurelia’s tent. The center of a knot in the trunk was stuck through with nearly a dozen throwing knifes. “She’s only got that good of aim when she’s thinking of someone specific.”

Swallowing hard, Zevran did his best to bury his concern and keep it from showing on his face. 

“Ah. You, perhaps?” he quipped, raising an eyebrow at Alistair. 

* * *

She took the lead on the road that day on her own, quickening her pace so that she would not have to speak with anyone. 

On their first stop to rest, Sten was the first to mention it. 

“You are unusually quiet today,” he commented, his face characteristically blank, but Aurelia liked to think there was a hint of concern in his voice. 

Alistair was the next to bring it up. He caught up with her briefly around noon, huffing in all his heavy armor as he tried to match her step. 

“You alright? What’s with the race to Redcliffe?”

“I just didn’t sleep well last night,” she said. It wasn’t a total lie. “I’m eager for an actual bed.”

“More nightmares?”

“You could say that.”

He quickly fell back to join the rest of the group, but she strode on. 

It was Leliana who finally was able to keep up with her long enough to get some real information out of her. 

“Aurelia,” the bard said carefully. “My friend, if there is something on your mind, you know you can discuss it with me, yes?”

Glancing over her shoulder, Aurelia could see the rest of the group was easily twenty paces behind and well out of ear shot. Inadvertently, her eyes caught Zevran’s. He smiled at her, but she quickly turned back to Leliana, chewing her bottom lip. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to discuss it, but—

“The whole thing is rather embarrassing,” she finally admitted. 

“Oh?” Leliana looked more curious than before. “How bad could it be? Did Sten catch you relieving yourself?”

“No!” Aurelia denied loudly, looking at Leliana with a questioning face. 

“See? Then it can’t really be so bad. You do not have to tell me what is the matter, but the rest of the group is planning an intervention so I figured I’d offer my help before they sit you down.”

Aurelia sighed and stared at the ground as she walked.

“Zevran, he uh—” she stumbled over her words, but Leliana waited patiently for her to finish. “He…heaskedifIwantedtohavesex.”

The words came tumbling out so quickly they all ran together. Leliana looked perplexed. 

“He what? I don’t understand.”

“Asked if I wanted to…have sex,” she said the last words so quietly that Leliana again shook her head in confusion. 

“Maybe I should let them proceed with their plans,” Leliana mumbled, starting to grow more concerned. 

“He offered to share my tent!” Aurelia finally yelped. She quickly turned to make sure none of the group heard her, but the only one who seemed to be paying attention to the two women was Zevran, who had his brow furrowed in concern. 

Leliana stared at her before bursting out in a fit of giggles. “How is that even remotely embarrassing? Did you take him up on the offer? I would have if he were to ask me, but the man is so enamored with you I doubt that day shall ever come.”

“He is not enamored with me,” Aurelia scoffed. “He’ll move on to you or Morrigan next. Fear not.”

“So, you turned him down?” Leliana looked shocked. “Why? Maker knows you could use the distraction.”

“That’s just it,” Aurelia said in a frustrated whine. She threw her hands in the air. “I can’t be distracted right now! You of all people know what is at stake here.” She let out a long sigh and ducked her head once more. “Besides,” she took a deep breath and admitted quietly, “I’ve never—well, you know—before.”

Ignoring her first point entirely, Leliana asked, her voice still laced with surprise, “Are you waiting for marriage then?”

“Andraste, no,” Aurelia blurted out. The very idea made her grimace. It had always driven her crazy how noble families preached the idea of a woman’s purity when in reality the majority of noble men and women were sleeping with whomever took their fancy. 

“It’s understandable to be anxious about taking a partner for the first time,” Leliana said gently. “But I promise, it does not truly hurt as much as people like to make it out to.”

Looking at her friend now, Aurelia never would have guessed she’d been a chantry sister. 

“I’m not afraid of the pain,” she responded, adamantly.

“Then what?”

“It’s just—he just—he has so much more _experience_ than I do.”

Leliana waved her hand and made a clicking noise with her tongue. “That is only to your advantage, my dear. It means he shouldn’t be a disappointment.”

By this point, Aurelia was a deep red from her cheeks down to her toes. 

“I’m not worried about myself being disappointed,” she finally admitted. 

Realization flashed across Leliana’s face and she made a small ‘oh’ of understanding. She, too, glanced over her shoulder at their newest companion, before smiling reassuringly at the Warden. 

“I think your worry may be needless, Lia,” Leliana softly comforted her. “Zevran does not strike me as the type of person to judge another person’s past experiences or, as it happens, lack thereof.”

A silence settled over them for a moment as Aurelia wondered if the red head could truly be right in her appraisal. Before she could go too deeply into her own thoughts, Leliana spoke again. 

“I think the most important question is do you want to sleep with him?”

They were quiet for another few moments before Aurelia admittedly timidly, “Yes.”

“Then do not trouble yourself so with self-doubt. Zevran should just feel privileged that you even desire him. If he does not, well, then I shall educate him on his grave mistake.” Aurelia couldn’t help but chuckle. “And stop fussing so over duty this and duty that. The world may be ending, love, but that doesn’t mean a woman does not have _needs_.”


	5. Chapter 5

Finally, they had made it to Redcliffe and now the wardens thought it a good time to pause for a heart to heart. 

Zevran leaned against a boulder, his arms crossed as he sighed. He was feeling irritable. He told himself it was due to impatience, but watching Aurelia as she so easily engaged in conversation with Alistair when she had not even been able to look at him all day made him seethe. 

Perhaps something could be slipped into the tall, former templar’s dinner…

“You are not at all subtle, are you?” 

“Hm?” Zevran looked up to see the pretty, red headed bard stop beside him and turn her gaze in the direction he had been looking. “What was that? You think I am unfairly handsome. Well, you would not be the first, sweet lady.”

Leliana smiled at him, knowingly. 

“I have a sneaking suspicion that if you are patient, our dear warden will come to you,” she said, coyly. Her smile was sweet, but Zevran was still suspicious.

“And how is it that you have come to your suspicions?”

Before she could answer, Alistair yelled “NO!” rather loudly and both turned to the wardens, expecting to see them arguing. Instead, Alistair looked flustered and was speaking very animatedly with his hands as Aurelia looked on, grinning menacingly. 

“Call it a woman’s intuition,” Leliana said simply. 

“Oh, then perhaps I should come to you for all my needed advice on the opposite sex.”

Their conversation was interrupted again as Aurelia said dramatically, “As you command…your highness.” She finished her words with an extravagant bow. A huffing Alistair turned on his heel and continued down the hill. 

Zevran and Leliana glanced at each other before moving to catch up with the wardens.

* * *

As the minutes ticked by until sundown, Aurelia could not help but grow more impatient. 

It seemed as if none of the aid promised in these treaties would be easily come by. Every place they showed up seemed to be immersed in its own turmoil that they were expected to sort out before the Blight could even be discussed. Is this how the other treaties would go, as well? Was the circle going to be on the brink of exploding or the Dalish succumbed to some rare flesh-eating virus? 

It was not something she could help and so she paced along the chantry’s steps. Waiting.

She glanced around for her companions. Alistair and Leliana appeared to be playing some sort of game on the bottom steps involving dice. Morrigan was pretending to take a nap with her back against the chantry wall and he arms crossed over her chest. Zevran sat on a crate away from the rest of them, a blade in one hand and a whetstone in the other. He appeared immersed in his sharpening and Aurelia’s gaze inevitably hovered. 

With Leliana’s advice still lingering in her ears, she took a breath and walked down the steps towards him. Her heart was palpitating, nervously, as she took a seat on the crate beside him. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists as she watched him. 

Without looking up, he said in greeting, “What is it you require, my lovely warden?”

Her stomach fluttered even though his eyes still did not leave his blade. The purr of his voice and the use of his now common pet name made her feel relieved. Maybe she had not completely turned him off after all. 

“You were the only one who didn’t seem to have a strong opinion about protecting the village,” she said, her voice slow. All of the rest of her companions had been very vocal in their view. Morrigan was staunchly against it. Alistair and Leliana both making appeals to stay and help. Zevran had remained silent, his arms crossed, his face totally indifferent. “Do you truly not have any thoughts on the matter?”

“Stay or go,” he said with a shrug. “It matters not to me. I owe you a debt and I will follow your lead.”

“Really? It’s that simple?”

“Eh,” he set his blade in his lap and looked at her finally. “Unless you take a sudden interest in committing genocide, though I suspect I should be more concerned with your overly merciful nature than I should be with you becoming a homicidal maniac.”

As he smiled at her, she could not help but feel herself smile back. They kept their eyes locked for a moment until Zevran suddenly frowned and turned his eyes back down to his blade. 

“I have been meaning to speak with you,” he said softly, his voice sounding more unsure than she had ever heard it. “I wanted to apologize if I was overly presumptuous and offended you in any—”

“You didn’t,” she said a little too quickly. His eyes shot back up to meet hers. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to…” Her voice trailed off, but he stayed silent, waiting for her to finish her thought. Taking a deep breath, she explained as a blush colored her cheeks, “It’s just I have never…well…”

Her eyes met his, but his mouth remained shut and his eyes unreadable as he continued to wait for her to say it. She wanted to smack him. Why could he not just say something? For Maker’s sake, this conversation was awkward enough as it was. 

“I’m a virgin,” she snapped, finally. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes as she stared out over the village. 

“So, are you saving yourself for your future husband then?” he asked, voice sounding confused. 

“For fuck’s sake,” she busted out, slapping her hands on her legs in frustration as she wheeled on him. “No! Why does everyone think that?”

“Everyone? So, everyone knows?”

“No! That’s not what I—ugh!” she buried her face in her hands, feeling the heat of her cheeks blazing against her palms. 

His soft chuckle did nothing to alleviate her embarrassment. She was very much wishing that the sun would set already so she could have a nice undead corpse to distract her when he placed his hand gently upon her knee. 

“I am glad that you feel comfortable enough to tell me,” he said quietly. At his soft words, she took the chance and glanced at him from between her fingers. His face had no humor in it as he smiled at her reassuringly. “Virgin, no virgin. It matters as little as the difference between someone who has tried lamb and someone who has not.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, trying to understand what he was getting at. Upon seeing her confusion, he sighed. 

“It matters not,” he said again, giving her knee a gentle squeeze. 

It felt as though the hand on her knee was actually compressing her heart as she took her head out of her hands and stared at him sheepishly. He smiled at her once more, but before she could say anything, the villagers were frenzied around them. 

“Shit,” she breathed, standing up. She had not even been paying attention to the fact that the sun was close to setting. 

Zevran deposited his whetstone back into his pocket and stood beside her. “Now for the fun part.”

* * *

Upon trading places with Sten, Zevran returned to camp from his turn at watch to find Aurelia sprawled in front of the fire. Her arms rested behind her head as she stared up at the night sky. The camp was quiet and everyone else appeared to have retired to their tents. 

A part of him considered giving her privacy. He knew that she was disturbed after their exit from Redcliffe. As long as she’d moaned about wishing for a night in a comfortable bed, she had retreated so quickly from the demon haunted castle that even Zevran could not help but regret missing out on a hot bath. Even if it meant having a possessed child lurking over your shoulder. 

His less pure inclinations won out and he found himself taking a seat beside her. Laying back on the cold ground, he rested his head parallel to hers and turned to watch her face instead of the stars. It was far more beautiful, anyways, he told himself as he smiled. 

“You’re staring,” she complained halfheartedly. After a second, she turned her head towards him. “Again.”

“You did say you did not object,” he reminded her. “So, I figured I was free to take pleasure in your gorgeousd face.”

The blush that soon covered her cheeks made his smile widen. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing a person react physically to his flirtations. His mind immediately wondered how flushed her face would get were he to tell her all the things he imagined doing to her when he was alone in his tent at night. 

“You are incorrigible,” she grumbled, turning to look back up at the sky. 

“But you must admit you find it endearing, no?”

She could not hide her smile from him and he took it as an affirmative. 

“You seemed trouble when we left Redcliffe,” he mused. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

Her smile immediately faded and her regretted asking her. As the seconds passed and she did not respond, he thought perhaps he should go back to making her blush. He was just about to open his mouth when she sighed and said quietly, “It reminded me of Highever.”

“Highever? That is your home, yes?”

“Was,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “All of those bodies strewn about everywhere. In the courtyard, through the halls—” She stopped herself and swallowed. “When I left Highever it was much the same.”

Turning onto his side, Zevran propped himself up on his elbow so he could more clearly see her face. “Your sister—”

“My entire family,” she cut him off. A sad smile played across her face as she turned to him. He once again saw the dark shadow that had overtaken her face every night since he’d arrived. “Save my brother. He left to go to Ostagar before it happened.”

“They were murdered,” he realized, understanding flooding his brain. 

“Yes,” she sighed. “By the same man I suspect hired you.”

His brow furrowed. “Loghain?”

“Arl Howe,” she corrected and though her face was calm, he could not help but feel a certain amount of dread as he recognized the name of the man who’d introduced him to the famous General. 

“Unfortunately, you would be correct,” he said apologetically. “I am sorry.”

“He didn’t hire you to kill every last Cousland, did he?” she asked and he was relieved to see a small, teasing smile tug at her lips, even if it did not remove the darkness from her eyes. 

“No, that he did not.” He thought for a moment before asking, “Will you seek this Arl Howe out? Will you seek vengeance?” 

She simply nodded and he felt a fire light in his chest. He wished to offer to assist her in her quest for vengeance. The thought of helping her be able to put her knife to the throat of this man sent a rush of adrenalin through him. Before he could make such an offer, however, she changed the subject, sounding almost apologetic that the conversation had taken such a dark turn. 

“I am sorry we did not get to spend the night on a real mattress.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, the image of her sprawled upon a down bed making him smile, wickedly. “As am I. Especially if that bed is shared with such a beautiful specimen as yourself.”

“You truly are the most persistent person I’ve ever met,” she said with much exasperation. 

“Persistence and patience,” he purred. “They will never fail you.”

She shook her head, looking as though she was biting her tongue. A tongue he would very much love to taste. His thoughts were running wild now as he laid next to her, the proximity wreaking havoc on his rational mind. 

“Aurelia?” he beckoned quietly. His fingers itched to reach out and push the hair back from her face. She seemed to force herself to look at him, her face a mask of anxiety but her eyes had lost their dark shadow and now seemed to be covered in a haze of desire. That could be wishful thinking, he knew, and so he must ask first. “May I kiss you?”

Her mouth opened and then shut as she mulled over his question. He had no expectations as far as her answer was concerned. The conversation they’d had before battle a few days prior had given him some hope, but it was entirely possible he had once again misread her. As the seconds passed after his question and she still did not answer, he resigned himself to once more returning to his tent to ponder his failure until dawn. 

When she slowly nodded and muttered a squeaky, “Yes,” he was more than a little caught off guard, but he pulled himself together quickly. 

His hand reached out to push her hair behind her ear and then moved to rest against her cheek. Her skin was softer than he could have imagined. He brushed his thumb against her cheek bone and a bolt of electricity tingled through him as he felt her heat rise from his touch. Looking into her eyes at this distance, he could see the flecks of green that reflected in the firelight. She was breathing very little as she waited expectantly, but nervously for what was to come next. 

Not taking his eyes off hers, he lowered his lips onto hers. He watched her until her eyes fluttered shut and she relaxed, but only slightly. He kept the kiss soft and gentle, slowly molding his lips to hers. He only let the kiss linger for a few seconds before pulling away, wanting to give her the opportunity to stop this if she was not comfortable, but instead he felt her hand gripping his arm and pulling him back down to meet her. 

Their next kiss, he pushed her slightly. He pulled her lower lip between his and sucked gently. He could hear and feel the soft gasp she let out. Her mouth opened slightly and he took advantage of the opportunity to strike out his tongue. She tasted sweet and he felt his head getting hazy. Even just kissing her was intoxicating. 

His hand moved from her face to run through her hair, his nails scraping her scalp. She tilted her head back slightly at the feeling. Fisting his hand at the base of her neck, he tugged her head back even further. A moan left her as his mouth moved from her lips, down her chin, to gently nip at the sensitive skin on her neck. 

“Zevran,” she sighed and he immediately felt himself begin to grow hard. 

Releasing her hair, he pulled away from her and sat up. She looked confused at his retreat and sat up next to him, trying not to sound hurt as she asked quietly, “Did I—is there something wrong?”

“Not at all, my sweet,” he reassured her, reaching out to cup her face in his hand briefly before pulling away once more. “But if we continue along this path, I may very well be tempted to ravage you right here in the middle of camp and I’m not certain you or our companions would think very highly of me if I did.”

He watched as her breath came short and her eyes widened at him. He wished he could be inside her head as she imagined his words, but instead he pressed a final, sweet kiss upon her lips before standing and heading to his tent.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you realize you have been smiling for hours now?”

Aurelia was slightly taken aback as she turned to the apostate. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed in response as she quickly forced a glower. 

“Since the last time you and that rogue Zevran shot glances at each other, in fact,” Morrigan continued thoughtfully. “He has his charms, I’ll give him that. Certainly, he must be quite something in bed for you to risk so much to be close to him.”

Aurelia’s eyes widened at Morrigan’s assumption. Did she really think they were sleeping together? Did everyone? 

“I wouldn’t know, honestly,” Aurelia answered quietly, trying to make the shrug she gave as casual as possible. 

It was Morrigan’s turn to look shocked. “Really? With all the suggestive looks you two have given each other all day, I would have sworn he shared your tent last night.”

“Well, he didn’t!” Aurelia insisted.

The witch gave her a skeptical glance before shrugging and walking past Aurelia up the road. Even as she walked on, Morrigan’s words still stuck with Aurelia. It bothered her little that people were simply assuming that she and Zevran were sleeping together, though it did surprise her. Instead, what gnawed at her was her mention of risks. 

What risks was she taking? 

Her eyebrows knitted together as she thought. There was the obvious fact that Zevran may decide any minute to finish the task he’d been sent here to do, but that did not frighten Aurelia. For some reason, she trusted him. He may be a murderer and a thief, but she believed him when he said he’d abandoned his contract to kill them. 

There was the risk of her becoming too distracted from her duty to Ferelden and the Grey Wardens. That concept still did make her feel guilty as she had spent most of their walk to Lake Calenhad lost in memories of the kiss they had shared the night previously, but Aurelia had decided after her conversation with Leliana that she did in fact deserve a distraction. She had thrown herself into this quest in an attempt to find a reason to keep living, keep moving forward, but perhaps life did not have to be one endless trudge after all. 

Glancing over her shoulder as they moved down the rise towards the docks, Aurelia watched Zevran for a moment. He was grinning as he teased Alistair about something she could not hear, but could tell by the other warden’s red face that it was not something entirely appropriate. 

No, if Aurelia was risking anything it was her heart, for just looking at him even for a brief moment brought a flood of warmth washing over her. 

Zevran met her gaze and his smile turned from one of teasing to one of fondness. She could not help but smile back and it clung to her lips the rest of the way to the circle.

* * *

There had not been a chance to get back across the lake after their trials at the circle tower. The hour was late and all of their party was too tired to do anything other than make an impromptu camp in a corner of the library that had the least number of corpses. Many of the bodies were already being taken away by the Templars, but it still mattered little. Zevran thought that given no other option, they all would have rested in the Harrowing Chamber. 

He sat away from the group slightly, cleaning his armor of demon flesh and blood. 

As he worked to remove the stains from his leathers, his eyes followed her. She was going from companion to companion handing out loot that she’d found as gifts. Morrigan, who rarely ever showed an emotion other than boredom, looked positively thrilled. Alistair and Leliana both looked pleased as well, as did the new mage in their party. 

It amazed him. 

Here they had been, being faced with a possible Rite of Annulment and massacre of mages. Yet, this woman had still taken the time to pick up every random object she thought might please those who travelled with her. 

Either she was not right in the head or she was the kindest woman he’d ever met. 

She was an enigma, he decided. Brutal and unrelenting in battle, yet considerate and sweet. She made it a priority to get to know her companions on a level that would have mattered little to anyone else he’d worked closely with. She knew their likes, their dislikes, their pasts, their troubles. Most importantly, she actually cared. They were not just more swords or staffs or bows to her. It was as if they were actually her _friends_. 

The idea was unsettling, especially as memories of his dreams in the Fade clung closely to his mind as he sat scrubbing. 

He had been so convinced that he was still in training to become a crow. He was so sure that he had to make himself strong, impenetrable to the hurts this world could throw at him. 

Yet, she had appeared, her face marred with worry and fear for him. She had not been able to hide the horror she felt upon seeing him on the rack. 

He was not just a tool or a weapon to her. _She cared._

Zevran would need to repeat that thought several more times before it became more believable, but as she smiled at him from across the room, he found himself desperately wanting to have faith in her.

* * *

She could feel his eyes upon her as she moved about the room. She had saved him specifically for last that evening so that she could move away from the group. As she walked past him, she gestured with her hand for him to follow. 

As she made her way down the corridor from the library, she was worried for a moment that he would not come. There were no audible footsteps behind her. Just as she began to frown, however, a hand gripped her waist and pulled her into a small side chamber. 

She let out a small squeal of surprise and her hand instinctively went to her dagger, but his fingers wrapped around her wrist as he spun her around. He pushed her into the wall, pinning her hand above her head. Her breath hitched as she looked down into his eyes. 

He may have been a few inches shorter than her, but they were evenly matched when it came to speed and strength. The muscles of his arm flexed in front of her eyes and she traced the hard lines of his body admiringly as she let him keep her captive. 

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, only half kidding. His hazel eyes were unreadable as he surveyed her face. “Or are you going to kiss me again?”

Taking that as an invitation, his lips turned up into a small smile as he let go of her hand. He gripped her waist and pulled her body into his. Their bodies crashed together as their lips did and she let out a purr of satisfaction. He was more demanding this time, his mouth quickly opening so he could taste her lips with his tongue. When she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, he took the opportunity to massage her tongue with his own. 

Encircling his shoulders with her arms, her hands found themselves weaving into his hair. Since their first kiss, she had found herself fantasizing about which part of him she wanted to feel next. His hair had always been forefront in her mind and she was excited to find that it was much softer than even she could have imagined. But she was not satisfied and her hands quickly explored his shoulders before dipping down to touch the bare skin of his back under his back plate. 

His hips ground into hers and she let out a small gasp at the contact. Stars shot from behind her closed eyes as his fingers dug into her hips through her leather armor. 

After a few minutes of passionate kisses and groping, he pulled away to take a breath and look at her once more. His eyes were glazed over with desire and it suddenly felt like the bottom had fallen out of her stomach. His lips swollen and his hair tousled, her mind immediately took her to a place she had only ever dared go when she was alone in her tent. 

“I’ve been dying to do that again,” he admitted quietly as his hand moved up to her face. His fingers grazed her cheek as he smoothed the messy hair back from her face. “I didn’t think I was ever going to get you alone.”

“I’ve been able to think of little else,” she confessed, her eyes avoiding his.

As soon as she’d said it, she wished she hadn’t. It felt weak, almost desperate to admit that the kiss they’d shared several days past had taken over all other relevant thoughts. Her skin tingled as his fingers traced her jaw, then down her neck, then further past her collar bones to where her cleavage peaked out from the top of her armor. 

“I got you something,” she said in a rushed voice, not certain she’d be able to control herself should his fingers go any lower. 

Removing his hand, he placed it on the wall beside her head and leaned into her. “Oh? Is it something I will enjoy?”

She caught the innuendo in his tone, but ignored it and simply responded, “I hope so,” as se dug around in the purse that hung from her belt. After a few seconds of cursing her fingers for not being steadier in this moment, she pulled out the small gold bar she’d been saving for him. 

“What’s this?” he asked as he took it into his other hand. He examined it closer and Aurelia was suddenly scared he would think she was foolish.

“It’s a present,” she answered meekly. 

“A…present?” He spoke as if he didn’t know what the word meant. 

“Yes, you know people give them to other people that they care about.” His eyes raised back up to meet hers and panic set in. “Or, you know, to people as a thank you or on birthdays or at special occasions like weddings or—”

She let her voice trail off as she realized she was rambling and saw that he was grinning at her. 

“So, what will this one be? A thank you or a to mark the occasion of our not dying twenty-six solid days in a row?”

Aurelia opened her mouth to respond, but arched an eyebrow as she understood his words. “You haven’t actually been keeping track of how many days it’s been since I didn’t kill you…have you?”

“Ah, but how can I forget the day the most beautiful woman I’ve ever beheld showed such mercy.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Do you hear something, boy?” 

The woods were quiet. It was her turn to hunt for dinner, but there was no sign of any living creature outside besides her and the mabari. Mac had grown suddenly still, however, his ears perked forward as he listened so something she could not hear. A rabbit, maybe? Or a deer?

She hoped whatever it was would reveal itself soon so she could go back to camp and get off of her feet. 

When Mac let out a loud, happy bark she groaned. 

“There goes our dinner,” she scolded him. “You’re about as stealthy as an ogre, you know that?”

“Unless you plan on roasting me over an open spit, I’d hope you’d hold your arrow.”

Zevran emerged from the underbrush, his bow and two rabbits slung over his shoulder. She could not help but glare at him as Mac bounced around his legs like an excited puppy. 

“That was my job, you know,” she grumbled as he neared her. 

“And now it is done and I have you to myself,” he purred as he stopped in front of her. The feel of his leather gloved hand caressing her cheek made her shut her eyes as she sank into his closeness. “Brilliant plan, was it not?”

“Brilliant and sneaky,” she sighed before his lips pressed against hers. His hands fell to her hips to pull her closer, but she placed a hand on his chest to stop him. When she pulled her lips away from his, she saw confusion and hurt in his eyes, but she smiled at him. 

Pulling the bow and game from his shoulder, she let it fall to the ground beside them. “Mac, guard,” she ordered as she removed her own bow and quiver. The dog immediately set up a perimeter around them and Aurelia put her hands in Zevran’s belt. Leaning against a tree behind her, she pulled his body back towards hers. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment all day,” he sighed as his hands ran down her body. They ghosted over her breasts and Aurelia could not stop herself from arching into him. 

“That’s because you’ve been staring at my ass since we left the docks,” she teased. A high-pitched squeak left her as his hands gripped her ass. He placed his thigh between hers and pushed upwards into her. 

His tongue was tracing the pulse in her neck and she let out a small whimper. To her shock, she found herself grinding down onto his leg as she rested her head back against the tree. 

“How could I not? You always insist on walking at the front, you temptress,” he said into her ear. She gasped as his hands gripped her ass harder. “Shall I tell you all the things I imagined on our walk today?”

Her hands gripped his shoulders as her eyes fell shut. Her body was already pulsing. She knew that she was like clay in his hands and that she should feel vulnerable, weak, but her mind was too overwhelmed by the sensory overload. The way his hands possessively held her as she pushed into his thigh. The sound of his voice purring in her ear. The smell of his armor and some spice she couldn’t name. She wanted to get completely lost in him. 

“Zev,” she said softly, trying her best to find words. 

“Or you could tell me all the things you imagine as you lay in your tent at night,” he continued on. Words never seemed to fail him, she marveled. Her dazed head was just forming a sentence in response, but he replaced his thigh with the palm of his hand and she gasped. “Tell me, my dear warden, do you give yourself pleasure?”

He didn’t apply any pressure, but he didn’t need to. Her whole body felt like there was lightening in the air and she began to tremble, hopelessly, as his fingers lazily stroked her through her leather leggings. 

“Yes,” was all she could say, her voice breathy. Her eyelids became so heavy she could barely open them, but when she did, she saw he was staring at her face with a hungry expression. 

He made a quiet humming noise of approval. He cupped her with more pressure causing her to whimper. “May I give you pleasure, Aurelia?” he asked, his voice gravely. “May I touch you?”

Her logical mind was screaming at her. This was not a good idea. She knew that this would only lead to further entanglement of their bodies and her heart. She was not sure that once she agreed to this, there would be any going back. Yet, she’d known that even when she’d let him kiss her. She’d known what that would lead to. Even with all the consequences and risks that had kept her desire at bay until this point, she still wanted him. Her body ached for his touch and she could not deny it. 

“Please,” she whispered, her voice as shaky as her limbs. “Yes, please.”

His breath was back against her neck as he raked his teeth across the sensitive skin. His deft fingers tugged at the laces of her leather leggings and before she could catch her breath, his hand ghosted into her small clothes. Were it not for the hand that still gripped her from behind, keeping her up right, she felt as though she would have melted to the ground. His fingers explored her, tracing her folds, and dipping in between her lips at a an agonizingly slowly speed. 

“You’re so wet already,” he cooed. “Have you imagined this before? Do you like to pretend it is my hand touching you instead of your own?”

She couldn’t answer him as his fingers had begun to draw circles around her sensitive nub. A loud moan escaped her as her face fell into the crook of his neck. He did not wait for her response and instead set a quick pace as his thumb mercilessly rubbed her clit. The sounds escaping her lips only grew more frequent and louder as she tried to muffle herself into his shoulder. 

Without warning, one of his fingers sank inside her and they both let out noises of pleasure. She nearly screamed at his sudden entrance. She had to clamp her teeth into his neck to keep from scaring every animal in the woods as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of her. 

“Does it feel better than you imagined, beautiful warden?” he asked, his voice not as steady as it was before. She could feel his erection pressing into her hip. When he pulled his finger from her completely, she dug her nails into his shoulder in protest, but he quickly reentered her again, this time adding a second finger. “Tell me,” he insisted, the pace of his fingers and thumb quickening. 

“Zevran,” she cried. “Yes, please, I—”

She could not answer him as she suddenly felt herself tumbling over the edge. The pressure that had been building in her abdomen suddenly released. She thought she heard herself scream his name, but couldn’t be sure as all she could focus on was the way his fingers felt inside her and his voice in her ear. 

“That’s it, my sweet,” he whispered as she shook in his arms. “Let go.”

When stars stopped exploding behind her eyes, she sank back against the tree to catch her breath and regain her composure. Her eyes were still hooded as she opened them to stare at him in awe. Her fingers shook weakly as she gripped his arms, but he seemed still so composed and calm. A sudden fire lit in her again as she realized she wanted to see him lose control, to find the same release she had. 

Her thoughts were cut off, however, as he removed his hand from her clothes. He caught her gaze and kept it as he brought the two fingers that had been inside of her to his lips. A noise of satisfaction left him and Aurelia could not tell whether it was from the look on her face or the taste of her. 

He smiled at her wickedly as he retied her leggings then placed a hand on his neck, where she had bitten him. 

“I should have known you’d be a biter,” he teased quietly. She pushed his hand away to see the damage and gasped slightly at the angry bruise that was already forming. 

“Oh, Zevran! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

He cut her words off with his lips.

* * *

“The both of you should be banned from collecting dinner,” Alistair grumbled as he took a seat next to Zevran by the fire. “Why in the Maker’s name would it take so long to catch two rabbits?”

Zevran smirked at his naivety and was about to quip back, but Alistair let out a whistle as he pointed his finger at Zevran’s neck. 

“That looks bad. What did you do?”

“Ah,” Zevran said, his smirk only widening as he turned to Alistair. “It is not what I did, but what our gorgeous leader did.”

Alistair furrowed his brow as he looked confused. “She hit you? You must have really pissed her off.”

“No, she did not do this with her hands,” he chuckled. 

“How did she get her foot all the way up there?” 

Zevran arched an eyebrow at the taller man and they were silent for a few moments before a look of understanding and revulsion took over Alistair’s features. 

“On second thought, I don’t want to know.”


	8. Chapter 8

If Zevran never had to see another demon, he thought even that would be too soon. It would be wonderful to get back to killing normal, mortal creatures. While being with the warden had been interesting to say the least, he was rather hoping that their next trip to Denerim would prove less eventful and include less discussions about the Fade. 

He was more than looking forward to being able to spend one night in a bed before they set off for the capital. His only disappointment was that it would be a night spent alone. As heated as their private exchanges had gotten in recent days, Aurelia had still not told him whether or not she wished him to share her bed. He was not willing to push the matter until she was ready, but it did little to ease the nagging feeling of lust that welled up in him every time he thought of her. 

She had barely even spoken to him in the time they’d been at Redcliffe. She was busy, of course, saving the abomination and discussing this Sacred Vase or whatever it was. It was silly to feel neglected, but he had to admit to himself that he missed her. 

As if on cue, the tall woman collided with his side and pushed him into the wall. If it hadn’t been for the flash of untidy, brown hair he caught from the corner of his eye, he may have run her through for the surprise attack. 

“Don’t do that,” he growled as he glared up at her. “I could have stabbed you and then I wouldn’t even get the chance to sob uncontrollably at your funeral for the rest of your companions would have murdered me in retribution.”

“You wouldn’t cry uncontrollably,” she scoffed. She rested her hands on his chest and gave him the most disarming of smiles. “You’d read dirty Antivan poetry on my grave and then drink a toast of brandy to my life.”

“Yes, as I wailed so loudly they would be able to hear me in Tevinter.”

She chuckled and said quietly as she lowered her lips to his, “I’ve missed you.”

He was relieved that her kiss gave him an excuse not to respond right away. Her admission, as innocent and honest as it was, scared him. It came so easy for her, being open with her feelings. She didn’t shy away from them or try to hide them. When she was sad, it showed. When she was happy, her smile could melt a thousand hearts. When this honesty was directed at him, it made him feel both terrified and over joyed in equal measure. 

When she pulled back, he wrapped his arms around her to keep her close and mumbled, “I have not gone anywhere. I’ve been right by your side this entire time.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. There was a pause as she leaned her forehead against his. Their noses touched and he felt as though he might burst from the simple intimacy of it. Their breath’s intermingling and the smell of her lavender soap clouded over all his reasonable thoughts. “Come to my room tonight.”

It was not a question. Pulling his head back from hers, he looked into her eyes. He was surprised by the invitation, but more surprised by the lack of fear or embarrassment in her face. 

“Are you certain?” he asked seriously and she nodded. 

Before he had time to imagine undressing her and throwing her onto her bed, she kissed him again and then pulled away. 

“See you after dinner,” she said with a grin as she walked down the corridor.

* * *

As the minutes ticked by, Aurelia grew concerned she’d made a fool out of herself. The sun had set hours ago. Dinner was well over, yet still, no Zevran. 

After the first hour went by with no sign of him, she called for a bath. As she sat in the now lukewarm water by the fire, she let out a small sigh. 

Perhaps he really was not interested after all. Or perhaps he’d received a better offer from a kitchen maid or one of their other companions. 

“You idiot,” she scolded herself as she sunk deeper into the water. Just her head showed now as she leaned it back against the metal tub. 

“What was that, my sweet?” 

She sat up so quickly that water splashed out of the bath onto the stone floor. Her hands gripped the side of the tub as she followed the sound of his voice. He sat in a chair on the opposite wall, all but obscured in shadow save for the glint of his eyes. 

“When did you get here? How—”

“I did not want to interrupt your bath. You looked so at rest. I thought it better to let you finish.

He stood and walked closer to her, kneeling beside the tub so his face was level with hers. A blush bloomed across her cheeks and she looked down not being able to meet his eyes. It had been her who had invited him here, but now that he was before her, she suddenly felt very much aware of how unclothed she was and how very much dressed he was. 

“Would you prefer I left?” he asked, his voice gentle. He reached out to stroke her wet hair, but instead of feeling calmer, she felt her heart rate speed up. 

“No,” she said honestly. It was just that the idea of him seeing her naked frightened her. No man had seen her naked. Well, besides her father and brother, but that had been years ago when she was still a babe. This was obviously much, much different. 

“You need not be shy,” he reassured her. “You are a beautiful woman. Besides, we are born into this life naked and we leave it naked.”

She scoffed at him, slightly disarmed now, but still anxious. “Not everyone dies naked.”

“If you are around, chances are you’ve taken even their clothes before the body goes cold,” he teased. A grin played on his lips and as she glared up at his face, she too found herself smiling slightly. 

“Will you hand me that sheet,” she asked, gesturing her arm towards the chair besides the bath. A linen sheet rested upon it for her to dry off with. He turned to grab it and she stood. When he turned back around, a small growl left him. 

It took him several moments to meet her eyes again. She could feel his eyes grazing down her body, hovering on her breasts and the mound of curls between her legs. It took all her will not to cover herself up helplessly like one of those explicit paintings she’d seen in some noble’s homes. 

“Zev,” she grumbled. “The sheet?”

“Ah, yes, of course,” he said as he snapped back to reality. He draped it over her shoulders and let his hands move slowly down her arms to her waist, his eyes never leaving her body. She took a piece of the sheet and wrung the water out of her hair as she watched his eyes. 

“Like what you see?” She tried to sound coquettish and flirty, but her voice came out sounding slightly snippy. It did not seem to bother him, however, as he raised his eyes to hers and smiled broadly. 

“You are more beautiful than even I could have imagined,” he asserted. “And I have one of the most lurid imaginations in Thedas.”

“That I don’t doubt,” she quipped, but her heart still fluttered as his bare hands skimmed under the sheet to feel her skin. He ran his palms across her stomach and slowly up her chest. She took a sharp intake of breath as he cupped her breasts with his hands, squeezing gently. She nearly dropped the sheet at the feelings. His calloused thumb ran over a peak and she let her eyes shut. 

Suddenly, his hands were gone from her chest. Groaning in disappointment, she opened her eyes just in time for her feet to leave the tub. She yelped and squirmed, but his arms were tight under her knees and held her back close to his chest. 

“Now you can say you literally swept me off my feet,” she laughed as he deposited her on the edge of the bed. Her legs dangled off the edge as he pushed her to lie down. Standing between her thighs, he shoved the sheet away. Suddenly, she felt exposed once more. The cool air hit her wet skin and she shivered. She was tempted to wrap it back around her, but his hands were already wandering back up her body from her legs. She ached to have his fingers on her breasts once more, but he skimmed his hands back down to her legs, plying them further apart as he kneeled between them. 

“If at any point,” he said seriously, waiting to finish his sentence until her eyes met his. “You would like me to stop, you need only say.”

Aurelia thought it was rather unfair of him to say this now as his mouth was terribly close to her mound, but she nodded in understanding. Her breath hitched once more as she realized what he was planning to do to her next. His fingers skimmed the inside of her thighs and she could feel his nose tickling the skin below her pubic bone. She’d heard the maids at Highever and Oriana mention this act. 

_”Any man who is willing to kiss you…down there,”_ one of the kitchen maids had explained to her when she was seventeen. _”Is worth keeping about.”_

Her memories quickly disappeared as she felt his tongue run slowly from her opening to her nub. It felt better than she could have ever imagined. Her hands immediately went to his head, ruining the perfect braids he made every morning as she buried her fingers into his blonde hair. His strokes were long and languid at first, but then he gently pulled her clit between his lips and sucked. 

“Oh, Maker,” she gasped, arching her back from the bed. He drew lazy circles around the nub with the tip of his tongue and she began to see stars. “Sweet Andraste, keep doing that.”

Zevran chuckled and she felt the vibrations before his tongue went back to work. Any coherent words quickly became incoherent noises that tumbled out of her before she could stop them. How did he so easily know exactly where to touch or kiss or bite to make her feel as though she was losing her mind? She could not wonder for long, however, as her entire body quickly began to quiver. A light sheen of sweat had formed over her skin, when moments before she had had goosebumps. Her breathing became labored. 

The same feeling she’d gotten in the woods as he touched her suddenly overwhelmed her. His name left her mouth in a yell and she could not control her hips from arching off the bed. He placed a steady hand on her abdomen to keep her still as she sought her release. As she lay panting, her body now sensitive to his touch, she thought about pushing him away but just when her hand went to his shoulder, he sat back. 

He wiped his mouth along the inside of her thigh, placing kisses before he stood up before her once more. There was a satisfied smirk on his face that she would have wanted to slap off were she not so impressed with him herself. 

“Armor,” she said gesturing her hand lazily at all his clothes. “Off.”

He chuckled again, but nonetheless began to rid himself of his clothing and weapons. Aurelia sat up on her elbows, eyes narrowing at him as he pulled one knife after another from different parts of his body. A question was forming on her lips, but she silenced herself as he dropped his chest and back plates to the floor. Lines of dark ink sprawled down the left side of his chest. Her eyes followed them down to where his belt hung low on his hips. They disappeared down his hips and she swallowed heavily. The lines of his muscles were so defined that her fingers itched to reach out and stroke him, but she held herself back as she simply watched.

His eyes met hers as he loosened his belt and dropped the remainder of his armor. His hands then went to push his small clothes down to his feet and Aurelia had to hold back the noise that was threatening to spill from her mouth. He stood straight and walked towards the bed, pushing her back so her legs no longer dangled over the edge. She rested against the pillows and he climbed next to her, his hands supporting himself from either side of her head as he lowered his body onto hers. 

The feeling of his bare skin running against hers felt blissful and she let her fingers wonder up his arms, squeezing the taught muscles there momentarily before they feathered over his shoulders and moved down to his chest. The firm muscles of his torso and stomach shuddered under her hands. His hand roughly took a fistful of her hair as he kissed her. 

His own hands were wandering from her legs as he once again pushed open her thighs, back up her stomach to her breasts. He gripped one firmly in his hand. His mouth left hers and descended to her nipple. Aurelia let out a cry and sunk her nails into his hips. 

“Zevran,” she moaned, feeling the heat rise within her once more. There was a need like she’d never felt before pulsating through every vein of her body. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh and she rolled her hips against him, wanting more contact. 

“Again, my sweet,” he said as he reluctantly removed his lips from her breasts. He ground his manhood against her and she cried out again. “If you want me to sto—”

“I swear by the Maker, Zevran,” she hissed impatiently. “If you dare stop, I may kill you right here in this bed.”

“Imagine the scandal you would cause the poor Arl,” he said with laughter in his voice. 

His hand left her breast to move between them. Aurelia’s body tensed as she felt him positioning himself at her entrance. She bit down on her lower lip as she prepared herself for the pain that was to come, but he was gentle and slow. He sunk in only and inch before pulling back. He looked into her face, searching her eyes to make sure she was alright. When he saw her lip caught between her teeth, he kissed her softly and tugged her lip between his own teeth. 

As he moved agonizingly slow within her, his tongue darted out, claiming her mouth as he was claiming her body. Every time he pulled back, he would go deeper, but just slightly. When their hips finally connected, Aurelia felt him stop and she opened her eyes to look at him questioningly. 

“How does that feel?” he asked. 

“It feels…” She hesitated as she let her body get used to him. It was not as painful as she’d been led to believe, Leliana had been right about that. It was slightly uncomfortable as her body stretched around him for the first time, but the pressure was slowly becoming bearable as the pleasure set in. Her nails that had been digging into his hips loosened and her hands moved up his back. “Nice.”

He let out a little laugh and pulled out part way before rolling his hips back against hers. She took a sharp breath. Pleasure shot through her at the small movement. So, this why people made such a big deal out of this, she thought as he repeated the action. 

His thrusts were slow and deliberate at first. His eyes never left her face and Aurelia could not wrench hers away. It was astonishing to realize that as his thrusts into her became quicker, the mask he usually wore was beginning to slip. 

As easy going as he was, Aurelia had noticed that he even with his humor and flirting, he was one of the most controlled individuals she’d ever met. Even in battle, his did not lose control or become overly excited. But now, as he moved inside her at a steady, drilling pace, his face completely changed. His eyes shut and his head tilted back. His mouth hung open slightly as he let noises of pleasure slip from his lips. One of her hands left his back as she pressed it into the side of his face. He pressed into her touch as he opened his eyes once more. 

“Aurelia,” he whispered, his voice heavy with an emotion she could not name. Lust? Pain? Want? She had never seen it before. He whispered her name over and over like a chant. He let his body rest against her, his head buried into her neck. 

It was all too much. The way their sweat slicked bodies glided against each other. His voice in her ear mumbling words she could not understand but recognized as Antivan. The feel of his muscles contracting under her hand. She didn’t think it would be possible, but she felt herself nearing climax again and the sounds leaving her own mouth slowly grew louder. 

“Please, oh please, Zevran,” she began to beg, not certain what exactly for, but he must have known. He lifted himself up once again and slipped a hand between them. His fingers expertly found her clit and it took only a few swipes of his thumbs before the world crashed down around her. A sharp scream left her and her voice was no longer her own. As he continued without slowing his pace, it was all she could do to keep the entire castle from hearing her release. 

Her muscles clenched around him, each of his thrusts now sending a shock wave through her. She stared up at him, her expression one of pure amazement. 

He said her name again and he looked as though he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t. His eyes screwed shut as he began to shake slightly. She held his face between her hands, not able to peal her eyes away. She needed to see this, to see him lose control, to give in. 

When he released inside of her, he let out a guttural yell that made her heart sore. His entire body tensed as he rocked against her halfheartedly a few moments more before he stilled, breathing heavily. 

They stayed where they were for a few moments as he caught his breath, his eyes still closed and his hair masking his face. Aurelia pushed it back so she could watch him, trying to commit this moment to memory. 

His eyes finally opened and he stared at her, still shaking. Aurelia stroked his cheeks with her thumbs and was shocked at how very vulnerable he appeared. Before she could truly assess his expression, he turned his head down and slipped from her. She let out a small breath at the sudden emptiness. She suddenly felt fearful that he would pull away completely or even leave, but she did not need to. He settled down against her chest, wrapping his arms around her as he did. 

A sigh of contentment left her and she continued to stroke her fingers through his soft hair. They laid there like that, both lost in their own thoughts, for she didn’t know how long. 

“Zevran?” she asked, her question from earlier popping back into her mind as she surveyed his body. 

“Hm?”

“Exactly how many knives do you have on you at one moment? I’m fairly sure I counted at least five.”

* * *

He heard the guard on the wall call out midnight only a few minutes after she’d fallen asleep. His rational mind was telling him to make a quick escape as he usually would after such an occasion, but she was curled up against his side, her arm draped across his chest. Her thick hair was tickling his chin was he rested an arm around her and stared at her sleeping face. 

Not only did she have him pinned in, but he found he did not actually want to leave. The warmth of her body against him was…comforting. It was an odd feeling to have. He had never before felt comfort in a lover’s touch. Release? Yes. Satisfaction? Most of the time. But comfort? That was an entirely foreign concept. 

He also could imagine her look of hurt and disappointment when she awoke to find him having had made a getaway in the night. Just envisioning her downcast expression made him feel guilty. 

What was wrong with him? Did this woman have him so bewitched that he was now concerned with hurt feelings and contentment?

Letting out a sigh, he pulled the blanket further over them both and shut his eyes. 

Perhaps these feelings and worries would disappear once the morning came.


	9. Chapter 9

She could not remember having gone this long without letting her grief and her duties overwhelm her. It felt as though the entire trip to Haven, she had a wide smile on her face. She felt happy, genuinely happy, for the first time since she’d left Highever. There was no heavy darkness sinking over her at night. She did not toss and turn from the nightmares as much. When she did, a pair of solid arms wrapped around her and reminded her she was not alone. 

It was as if the universe sensed her new found peace and meant to pull her back down into the abyss of despair. 

“Do you think you failed your parents?”

Her breath caught in her chest.

Aurelia wasn’t even sure she actually believed in this Urn of Sacred Ashes or this so-called guardian. She had been raised Andrastian, certainly, but since the death of her family, she had a hard time imagining that the Maker truly even existed. Yet, here she stood, listening to a spirit who seemed to see so clearly into her soul. 

“Yes,” she said, her voice weak. 

Zevran and Morrigan immediately launched into tirades about guilt tactics, but it was Sten who she heard most clearly. 

“Parsheera,” he said as he held her gaze. His voice was not condescending or disapproving as it usually was. “Leave the past where it falls.”

All she could do was nod. She thought she had left the past behind her, but maybe she was simply naïve to think she could erase all the guilt and sadness she’d carried with her these past months. 

She was barely listening as the guardian turned to her companions, her mind too preoccupied with her own self-loathing, but Zevran’s voice pulled her away from her thoughts. 

“How do you know about that?” Aurelia glanced up at him, her eyes concerned. The tone of his voice had changed dramatically. His normal playful, relaxed nature was gone. He looked to be on edge and Aurelia was shocked to see a hint of fear in his eyes. 

“I know much. It is allowed to me. The question stands, however. Do you regret—”

“Yes,” he snapped. “Yes, the answer is yes if that’s what you wish to know. I do. Now move on.”

He was so forceful in his response. Aurelia could not help the shock that showed on her face. His eyes met hers only briefly, his face filling with shame before he quickly looked away. What had the guardian known about him that he so wished to keep from the group? 

As they continued through the gauntlet, Zevran went back to making his usual snide and sarcastic comments, but Aurelia still wondered. This was a man who did not apologize for his past, who had no qualms about his profession or the mistakes he had made. Aurelia had honestly thought him uncapable of feeling remorse. What had he done to make him feel regret?

She did not get to ask the question, for as they continued through, a man with his back turned towards them appeared ahead. 

For the second time that day, her heart stopped. It couldn’t be, but as he turned, she felt a lump form in her throat and tears threaten to well up in her eyes. 

“Father?”

* * *

“I do not think it best that we disturb her,” Sten said curtly. 

“She must eat,” Leliana insisted. 

“Maybe Sten is right,” Alistair interjected. “She’s had a trying day. Maybe she just needs some time to think.”

They had been going around and around in circles with this argument since they’d returned to camp. Morrigan had filled the rest of their party in on the events that had transpired in the temple before quickly retreating to her own fire, but the rest of the companions debated amongst themselves whether or not someone should go to her. 

Zevran kept himself out of the conversation. His thoughts were going in a thousand directions. Was he concerned for the warden? Of course. It had only been in recent days that he did not have to purposefully act to pull her out of her morose mood to rejoin the living. She had been smiling more, laughing with ease. Yet, she had so quickly reverted to her old feelings of guilt that he could not help but wish to go and comfort her. 

His own guilt was stopping him from entering her tent and pulling her into his arms. Memories of Rinna were forefront in his mind. He could see her face so clearly, yet one thought overwhelmed him more then the others. 

_If Aurelia knew…_

Would she hate him for it? Would she banish him from her side? Would she kill him? 

The possibilities worried him. 

A bowl of stew was held out to him and he looked up to see Wynne standing before him. There was a kindness and understanding in her eyes that made Zevran sigh. As much as this mother hen of a mage annoyed him, he took the bowl from her and stood. 

“I’ll make sure she hasn’t starved,” Zevran grumbled as he made his way towards her tent. 

If she heard the flap of her tent open, she did not show any sign. She laid on her bedroll, Mac tucked against her back as she rested on her side, staring at the amulet she had been given in the temple. Her eyes did not move away from it even as he sat next to her. 

“You should eat something, darling warden,” he said softly as he held the bowl out to her. 

Finally, she glanced up at him, but made no move to take the food he offered. Her eyes were red from crying, he assumed, and most of the color was gone from her beautiful face. His chest ached as he stared at her. He longed to see the bright smile and hear her laughter. 

“If you do not,” he clucked. “Wynne will surely have my head.”

With a sigh, she sat up. 

“Mac, out,” she ordered and though the dog whined in concern, he obeyed, casting Zevran a suspicious glance before the sat at attention on the ground in front of the tent. She took the bowl from him, mumbling a quiet “thanks.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as she stabbed a spoon at the soup, her eyes not meeting his. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she shot back. “The guardian seemed to have known your heart just as well as he knew mine.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Zevran staring at her face and Aurelia keeping her eyes purposefully downward into her bowl of still untouched food. His heart was racing just as it had in the gauntlet, but he felt a sudden resolve. Perhaps it was foolish, but Zevran felt as though he could trust this woman. Whatever she decided to do with this information, he knew that she would be just. 

“You have been a good friend to me,” he sighed. “There is no reason to be silent.”

* * *

Aurelia felt nauseous and she knew the long-gone cold bowl in her hands would not be touched tonight. It sat there as she sat motionless, staring at Zevran. She had not pressed him for more information on his final mission, she had not thought it was her place, yet here he was confessing to her the biggest regret he had in life. 

A part of her felt comforted, knowing he trusted her enough to share this with her. Yet, another part of her felt horrified. She had a hard time getting the image of his former lover staring up at him with her throat cut from her mind. 

Was that what was going to become of her? Was he ever going to be willing to open his heart again?

She felt selfish for thinking the last part, but there it was. If he was capable of doing such a heinous act to a woman he was in love with…

“Do you still wish to die?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. For the first time since their meeting, it suddenly occurred to her that they were more similar than she’d given credit. When they had first met, they both were hoping for death. Yet, she knew her heart had changed. Seeing her father today had reminded her of that. That while she missed her family, she no longer wished to join them. 

What if the same could not be said for Zevran? She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know the answer. What if he said yes? What if this connection they had created these past weeks truly meant nothing to him? 

“No,” he said firmly. A wave a relief washed over her. “What I want is to begin again. Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it.” Finally, his eyes met hers and her heart fluttered at the meek expression on his face. “I owe you a great deal.”

Setting the bowl beside her, she crawled over to wrap her arms around him and lean her head against his shoulder. He seemed shocked by the affection at first, his hands hanging in the air awkwardly for several seconds before he set them gently on her back. 

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Zev,” she said quietly. 

It was a not only a relief to realize that she was not physically alone, but that he also could understand her. 

“Wynne will surely be angry with me for distracting you from your food,” he commented lightly, as if he were desperate to change the topic and the solemn tone of the tent. 

“I don’t see how she’ll know if you don’t tell her,” she grumbled, glaring up at him. 

“And if you faint on our way back to Redcliffe tomorrow?” he clicked his tongue at her. “I will surely be the one to blame.”

Aurelia scoffed and pulled away from him. She gave him a small glare before she crawled to the other side of the tent and began rummaging through her pack. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice slightly nervous. 

“I found you a present while we were in Haven.”

“Is it the manifesto of those cultists? That will make for some fun late-night reading.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Nice boots.”

Zevran glanced up, smiling, as Sten met his stride. He looked back down at the pair of boots he now wore and smiled wider. 

It had been shocking to him that she had even remembered one of their first conversations, let alone had gone through the trouble of carting them all the way back to camp to give to him. 

She was such a peculiar woman. Never in his life had he received a present from anyone. Now, he felt as if he was constantly being showered with gifts. It possibly could have been a ploy on her part to ensure all of her companions’ loyalty. Whatever her ulterior motive, he would accept it. 

“Nice sword,” he smirked back, gesturing to the large sword the Qunari now carried on his back. Sten had become increasingly less moody since Aurelia had sought out the weapon for him, but Zevran still had yet to get the man to even crack a smile.

Sten simply stared back at Zevran, his eyes narrowed. 

“Does the painted elf intend to finish the job he was sent here to accomplish?”

Zevran blinked. 

“I do not intend to,” he said, seriously. “I have already failed and the Crows will be hunting me soon enough. I see no reason to throw away my greatest chance of survival.”

The glare on Sten’s face did not lessen, but it was a relief when he finally said, “Good. I do not wish to anger the Warden with your death. She would be displeased.”

With that, he walked away and Zevran stood where he was looking baffled. 

What was going on? First Alistair had asked about his intentions with Aurelia and now Sten was on his back? Was it something he’d said?

* * *

Her breath came in pants as she rode him. Her head was thrown back, her eyes shut tightly. Her hips made circles as she ground against his hips and he seemed to be in ecstasy. 

His hands gripped her breasts as they bounced with her body. Her name left his lips several times as he encouraged her on and guided her. 

“Yes, Aurelia,” he gasped. “Just like that.”

Seeing the look of bliss on his face and hearing him say her name was too much. She felt a moan forming at the back of her mouth. Normally, she would have let it out without reservation, but tonight—

_”Half of us aren’t getting any sleep, with the way you two carry on all night.”_

Biting back her moan, she collapsed against him, burying her head into his shoulder. Even as his hands went to her hips, holding her still as he rutted into her from below, she could not shake Wynne from her mind. 

Were they really so loud? Could everyone hear them? Embarrassment washed over her at the thought of what they must all be saying to each other. Wynne had been the only one to bring it up directly, but how many of the others were thinking the same?

He hit a sensitive spot inside of her and she bit down on her lip hard to keep from yelling his name. When she felt her entire body tense, she clamped her teeth into his shoulder, muffling the sounds of her release with his skin.

* * *

“You were…much quieter tonight,” he pointed out as he ran his hands up the planes of her back. She was sprawled across his chest, her face buried under his neck so he could not see her expression. “Are you beginning to tire of me?”

He said it jokingly, but it was in fact a concern of Zevran’s. This was one of his longer liaisons. The majority of his affairs lasted days rather than weeks. He at first had assumed he would grow tired of her, but now the roles were reversed. What would she do with him if she was? She could simply kill him now or throw him back to the Crows. He was at her mercy. 

“No, of course not,” she said adamantly. “It’s just…”

She did not finish her thought and he ran his hands through her sweat drenched hair. 

“Did I disappoint you tonight?” He had never had complaints before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. Maybe he was growing too comfortable with her. Maybe he was slacking. 

“No, not at all,” she denied once more. Taking a long breath, she pushed her chest off of his and leaned on her elbow. She placed her cheek on her fist and smiled lopsidedly at him. “Wynne gave me a scolding.”

His brows furrowed as he wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. “Whatever for? Did Mac get into her tent again?”

“She says we keep everyone up at night,” Aurelia sighed. “That I am neglecting my duties as a Grey Warden and that you…” She looked away from his face and instead traced one of the tattoos on his chest with her forefinger. “That you only are thinking of sex.”

“Well, that is unfair,” Zevran huffed. “I think of a great many things besides sex. I think of how you sound, moaning my name. I think of how soft your skin is, how perfect your hair is for gripping in my hand and pulling. I think of how you smell after I’ve made you—”

“Zevran!” Aurelia pinched him and he winced slightly. 

“The act itself is so mundane, no? But see, there are so many other things to think of.”

She did not appear amused as she groaned in annoyance and rested her head back against his chest, above his heart. They were quiet for a few moments before Zevran asked slowly, “Do you believe she is right?”

He made a mental count of all the companions who had made comments to him about their…relationship in the past few days. Sten, Alistair, even Shale had all had an opinion on the matter. He wondered briefly if he should mention it, but he instead decided against it. 

It took her a few seconds to respond. “No—maybe—I don’t know.”

He couldn’t explain the sudden uneasiness he felt or the pang of pain that hit his heart at the thought that she may end whatever this was between them. He would go, of course. As he had just been thinking earlier, this liaison had gone on far longer than it should have. He would not be angry or hurt. Or at least he told himself he wouldn’t. 

“Aurelia,” he tried his best to keep his voice level and without emotion. “If you feel I am distracting you—”

“I don’t want you to go,” she said quietly, her voice filled with a vulnerability that made the sharp pain in his chest worse. 

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and said under his breath, “Well, in that case I shall just have to seek revenge on the mage by talking about her bosom even more than I normally would.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Did you remember me mentioning it? Wow, I’m more used to people not listening when I go on about things.”

“You’re my friend,” Aurelia insisted, looking slightly offended. “Of course, I remember!”

“I…don’t know what to say. I’m honored.”

He was positively beaming and Aurelia couldn’t help but smile back at him. She had tracked him down outside of the main hall as soon as she’d found the amulet in the Arl’s desk. Luckily for her, Alistair was too distracted to ask why she was in the Arl’s study to begin with. It had been worth all the snooping she’d done around the castle just to see the wide smile that lit his face. 

“Don’t mention—"

Suddenly, she felt like she was being crushed. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her so tightly she squealed. Her feet lifted off the ground as he hugged her with such force, she had to gasp for breath. 

“Al—can’t—breath—”

“Oh, sorry!”

He finally set her down and ruffled her hair some. She huffed at him and swatted his hands away, but his smile never faded as he made his way down the corridor to his room. 

As she fixed her hair, she couldn’t help but grin herself. It felt good being able to make her friends smile. They had so few occasions to feel happy. They all willingly followed her across Ferelden and back, it was the least she could do to attempt to bring some joy to their lives every now and again. 

She was whistling as she walked back to her room, still congratulating herself on the great successes they’d had that day. Curing Arl Eamon, gaining his support against the Blight, finding Alistair’s mother’s locket. It made her slightly giddy and she couldn’t wait to tell Zevran. He would probably nod as she talked and make some snide comment about her obsession with gifts, but she couldn’t help but already imagine the smile he would try to hide as she gushed about her day. 

When she got to her room, however, he wasn’t there. It surprised her at first, but she went about getting ready for bed as she usually would. She did take extra time to brush her hair, but even after a half an hour at the mirror, he did not appear. 

She laid in bed, trying to concentrate on the words, but every noise made her glance towards the door.

Still, he didn’t come. 

It was when the guard on the wall called out an hour before midnight that she finally blew out the candle, but still she tossed and turned until the sun rose.

* * *

He avoided her for the entirety of the next day and most of the day after that. Whenever she tried to engage him in conversation, he would quickly turn to the person next to him and ask whatever absurd question came to his mind. Zevran would appear lively and engaging long enough to get her to walk away, a dejected look on her face. 

The logical part of his brain knew that he was being foolish. That he’d only witnessed a hug and nothing more, yet still the side of his mind that seethed with suspicion continued to tell him otherwise. 

The two wardens shared a closeness. Without even thinking about it, he had watched them for some time, long before the night in Redcliffe. The way they sat so close at the fire after a long day and laughed with ease. The way the fought together, using signals and commands that were lost on the rest of the group. It was as if they could fight with one brain. 

It was an intimacy Zevran could not hope to replicate. 

He was not jealous, he told himself repeatedly. No, he did not get jealous. He was not being territorial. She was free to choose her lovers as she would. He could make no claims upon her. They had had their distraction and she must move on. The fact that Alistair was now considered heir to the throne and he, still a lowly assassin, did cross his mind more than once. Perhaps she was simply hoping to move back up in the world, back to the rightful place in society her birth and family name dictated for her. 

He worked himself into such a state that when she sought him out that night at camp, he could not hold back his qualms any longer. 

“You and Alistair are quite close, are you not?” he asked pointedly. Her brows furrowed at him – in guilt or in confusion, he could not tell – as he went on. “I am curious as to the nature of your relationship.”

A crease formed between her brows and she frowned at him. He tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, but he could not ignore the pounding of his heart. 

“It’s not what you think, Zev,” she said slowly and quietly. 

“Isn’t it?” he snapped. “I’ve watched you and he together. I know a complication when it rears its head and threatens to bite.”

Her mouth fell open slightly, as if she wanted to say something but was too shocked. 

“You and I have had our fun,” he went on, ignoring the hurt that flashed across her gray eyes. “But if this thing between you and Alistair is leading somewhere, I would happily step aside. Complication avoided. Everyone’s the happier, yes?”

Aurelia let out a long breath that she looked as if she had been holding. Her head shook as she stared at him in exasperation. “It would be that easy for you, would it? Would you be _happier_ if you ‘stepped aside’?”

“It is not a matter of—”

“You know what, Zevran,” she interrupted him. “Fuck off.”

She turned on her heal and walked, not even giving him a second glance as she marched to her tent, tightly sealing the flap behind her. He frowned after her, a million thoughts bombarding him at once. He had not seen her angry like this outside of battle and never, not even after he had attempted to kill her, had that anger ever been directed at him. 

Guilt washed over him. Had he been…wrong? Had he just falsely accused her of philandering? Or perhaps she was upset because he had caught her? 

Before he could decide which made more sense, a low whistle came from near the fire. 

“I wonder, Zevran,” Morrigan called. “What is it you said to elicit such a reaction?”

“He has angered the warden,” Sten growled. 

“Lovers spat, eh?” chimed in Oghren as he chuckled into his mug of ale. 

“Oh, be gone with the lot of you!” Zevran yelled, waving his hand at them as he stomped to his own tent. “For once, mind your own business!”

“Perhaps we’ll all get some sleep tonight,” Alistair commented to Leliana who couldn’t suppress a giggle.

* * *

“So, what did he do?” Alistair asked in a sing song voice as he slowed his pace to walk beside Aurelia. She was hanging towards the back of their group today, kicking the mud as she walked down the road. She had refused to meet anyone’s gaze all morning as she simply glowered at her boots. 

“I bet five silver that he told you he was married but Wynne thinks—”

“You all seriously placed bets on this?” she asked, not in the least surprised, but more than a little annoyed. 

“Of course,” he scoffed. “It’s been the most exciting thing to happen in camp since Morrigan lit Oghren’s pants on fire.”

“I think the singe marks are still there, despite Leliana’s patch job,” she commented lightly, not able to stop the smile from growing on her lips at the memory.

“So,” he said, drawing out the vowel as he elbowed her lightly in the ribs. “Did he tell you he’s got a wife back in Antiva?”

“No,” she answered curtly. 

“Damn,” he sighed. “He’s actually interested in men? If Sten’s right, I swear I’ll—"

She looked at him, incredulous. Not able to listen to anymore of her companions’ absurd guesses, she snapped, “He thinks you and I are in love with each other.”

Alistair stopped mid step, staring at her oddly for a moment before he let out a loud, booming laugh. Aurelia turned to him, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him. When he realized she was not kidding, he took a few deep breaths, but there was still a good deal of humor in his voice. 

“You’re joking? Please tell me you’re joking,” he wheezed as he tried to regain control of the laughter bubbling up in his chest. 

“I’m not,” she snapped. “And it isn’t funny!”

“It is a little bit,” he insisted as he began to walk once more. “Zevran…jealous. Oh, I will never let him live this down.”


	12. Chapter 12

“I think we should probably talk.”

Zevran groaned inwardly. They had nearly made it to the Dalish camp, yet now Alistair decided it was time for a heart to heart? He could not abide it. He had been tempted to leave regularly on their march from Redcliffe. This may finally be the boot in the ass he needed. 

“If you need advice on wooing your fellow warden, you have come to the wrong person. Perhaps Shale would be of more use.”

As hard as he tried, the disdain he was feeling crept into his voice. Alistair, rather then being offended, sounded flustered. 

“I do believe you are the densest person in Thedas.”

“And here I thought that title belonged to you,” Zevran retorted. 

“It seems you may have upended my reign,” Alistair drawled. 

Zevran glared at Alistair then. “If you have a point, make it and leave me be.”

“You were wrong about Aurelia and me,” Alistair said plainly. “If you truly believe she’d ever have eyes for me, you are not only the densest person in Thedas but also the most blind.”

His eyes were still filled with suspicion as he remained silent. The templar did not seem like an untrustworthy person – on the contrary, he seemed rather too gentle hearted for Zevran’s taste – but perhaps Aurelia had put him up to this? 

“She’s only ever had eyes for you, you idiot,” Alistair continued, giving Zevran an equally annoyed look. “Now, as much as the rest of us have enjoyed a blissfully restful sleep these past few weeks, we would much rather not have to worry about which one of you will kill the other first.”

Before Zevran could even open his mouth to respond, Alistair was already walking ahead. 

“For the Maker’s sake, just talk to each other already,” he called over his shoulder. 

He had plenty of time to think on the warden’s words. The rest of the walk to the Dalish gave him plenty of time to reconcile with the idea that perhaps he had been wrong. He had been so certain, yet a small voice at the back of his mind kept butting in to his assertations. 

Had it truly been that she was actually in love with Alistair or had he just not trusted her? He scoffed audibly at the idea, he trusted Aurelia with his life. What he did not trust was the she would choose him, that he would be anything but a play thing to her. Wasn’t that what he had always been to everyone he’d been with prior? Why should now be any different? 

As she chose her team to go into the forest, she did not meet his gaze. She left him behind to stay with the others and he sighed as he watched her go. 

He had plenty of time to think as she was off fighting werewolves and Maker know what else. In all his musings, he came to one final conclusion. 

By not trusting her, he had lost her trust. It was a cruel irony.

* * *

Her face was knit into a frown as she stroked the supple leather gloves in her hand. She held them so tightly they creaked. 

The begrudging child inside her wanted to toss them into the halla pen and let him continue to wallow in his self-prescribed misery. He deserved nothing less, she thought, still bitter over his accusations. Whenever she came close to throwing them away, however, she remembered his face when he spoke of his mother and the gloves he had coveted as a child. They had discussed it upon arriving at Redcliffe. When she’d made her decision to go to the Dalish, she’d asked him his opinion. 

As angry as she was, her heart still ached for him. She had nothing left to remember her own mother by, but at least she had memories. 

Her feet sought him out even as her mind still pulled her back and forth between her feelings. She was too distracted by the silent argument that she nearly ran head long into him as she moved around an aravel. 

They both jumped, and spoke at the same time. 

“I was just looking for you—”

“I was hoping to run into you—”

Silence fell over them. Zevran brought his hand up to awkwardly rub the back of his head. He looked so sheepish, she noted with some satisfaction as she cast her eyes down toward her hands. 

“I wanted to speak with—”

She cut him off quickly, holding the gloves out to him, her arms stiff, “Here.”

“Gloves?” he asked, sounding shocked and a little annoyed. “You’re giving me gloves? What for?”

“They’re Dalish gloves,” she snapped back, throwing the gloves at his chest. He caught them and continued to stare at her with a look of weariness. “Like your mother’s.”

“I…” His eyes widened slightly and he seemed lost for words. Aurelia swallowed hard, wondering if this was a mistake. What if he didn’t even like them? She’d gone through all this trouble for nothing. “Maker’s breath, you’re right.”

“You’re welcome,” she grumbled, turning to go. 

“I’m sorry, I’m surprised,” he said quickly. A hand caught her wrist and she turned back to him, reluctantly, fully prepared to slap him if he didn’t let go, but the meek expression on his face gave her pause. “No one has simply…given me a gift before.” He paused, his eyes finally meeting hers. “Not until you.”

She wasn’t certain how to respond. He had teased her incessantly about her gift giving, but she had never thought that was because he was unfamiliar with gifts. How could someone go their entire life without having received a gift? The sudden realization of her own privilege washed over her and she felt guilty for her anger, but only momentarily.

“Thank you,” he said softly as he released her wrist. 

“It was nothing,” she lied and turned away from him once more. 

“I am sorry,” he said quickly, forcing her to stop once more. This time, however, she could not turn to face him as she took a deep breath. “I did not trust you and I apologize. I should not have made accusations.”

She stood where she was, slowly counting to ten as she took long breaths, doing her best to compose herself. Before she could even look over her shoulder at him, he was already rambling on. 

“I was paranoid and jeal--,” he stopped himself from saying the last word and quickly continued, but Aurelia already had her eyes narrowed. “I let my past dictate how I treated you. It was not fair.”

“You were jealous,” she said pointedly, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at him. 

“I do not get jealous,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself. “As I told you, I make no claims on you—”

“You were jealous,” she snapped again. 

His hand ran through his hair, obviously exasperated. She could not help but smirk, finding amusement in his frustration. 

“I am not very good at this, Aurelia,” he said, his voice timid. 

“What? Apologizing? Admitting your feelings?” 

“All of it!” He threw his hands into the air in frustration. “The gifts, the honesty, the—everything. This,” he said gesturing between the two of them. “I do not know how to do this.”

“And you think I know any better?” she countered. Sighing, she said quietly, “This,” she mimicked him and gestured between the two of them. “Will not work if you don’t trust me.”

“I do tr—”

“You don’t,” she cut him off. “Not if you don’t believe I would choose you.”

A silence fell over them and her heart sank as she watched him. His eyes stared down at the gloves in his hand and there was such a forlorn expression. She was tempted to reach out and wrap her arms around him, to comfort him, but her body refused to move. Finally, he raised his face to meet her gaze and her it felt as though her heart had completely stopped. 

“Will you give me the chance to try?” he asked softly. He sounded somewhat hopeful, but she could not rid the feeling that he was preparing himself for rejection. 

Her mind whirled. A part of her wondered if he was serious, that he would truly attempt to trust her, but the part of her that had spent the last two weeks thinking of nothing but him, even in her anger, desired nothing more than to agree. The later inevitably won out. 

“I will not pretend I can offer you more—”

She cut him off with a kiss, her arms winding themselves around his neck. It took him a moment to grasp the shift in the situation, but finally he moved his hands to her back and pulled her close, deepening the kiss. When she pulled away after a minute, he refused to let her go, but she tilted her head to look at him. 

“Who says I need more than this?”

* * *

Their love making was slow that night. He felt as though he had to make up for the wasted time they’d spent angry at one another. He lavished her body with kisses and strokes, bringing her to the brink countless times before he finally relented to her begging and took her. 

“Zevran,” she whispered. He could not tear his eyes away from her face as she sighed out his name. “I am yours.”

Even as they both lay breathless, coming down from their joining, his heart still stopped as he remembered her words. He turned his head to look at her. She laid on her side, her eyes shut, and a contented smile on her face. He turned to rest on his side so he could reach out a hand and caress her sweet, tranquil face. 

Neither of them had dared discuss their feelings more than they already had. 

She was a friend, his mind insisted. A friend whom he very much enjoyed making scream his name so the entire camp could hear, but still a friend. That idea alone was a strange notion, he was not certain he had ever had one before. As her words crossed his mind once more, he could not help but hope that maybe there may be something more, but he dared not hope too much, for he was already in over his head.

She was more than he had ever dared to hope for, ever dreamed that he would be worthy of. He still did not feel he deserved her. Her kindness, her strength, her mercy. He did not know how he would ever be able to live up to her, but he prayed silently that he would find a way. 

Until then, he decided as he wrapped an arm around her back to pull her against him, he would do his best not to fuck up whatever this was between them.


	13. Chapter 13

She stepped forward and swiped her dragger across his face, but he was too quick. He stepped back, leaning his upper body away from her. She jabbed to the right and then left, but his arms were quickly there, blocking her attack. 

Seeing an opening, she lunged at his ribs, but he placed an arm on her shoulder and grasped her forearm with his other hand. Before she could even curse, she was face down in the dirt. He grabbed the knife out of her hand and had it to her throat within seconds. 

“That was better,” he relented, taking the blade away from her throat and loosening his grip on her arm. “You found a weakness like I instructed, but you left yourself too open.”

Grumbling, she spit the dirt out of her mouth and rolled over so she could see his face. 

“You are too over eager,” he went on, kneeling next to her and spinning her dagger in his hand. “You need to have more patience and focus.”

“Now you sound like my mother,” she sighed, grabbing the dagger back from his hand. She rolled onto her back and jumped back to her feet in one fluid movement. 

“Was she not only wise but also devilishly handsome?”

Not bothering to respond, Aurelia struck at him again.

* * *

“It appears they may actually kill each other this time,” Shale said dryly as she stood with the Oghren and Morrigan, watching the two rogues swing at each other. 

“I’ve got a sovereign on the elf,” Oghren said before looking around to the rest of the group. “Any takers?”

“You’re on,” Alistair said with his mouth full of berries as he approached them. He offered some to Morrigan who gave him a disgusted look. “Let’s make it two.”

“Did you wash those? For that matter, when was the last time you even washed your hands?”

* * *

“You two have made up rather quickly.”

Aurelia had been lost in thought as she lingered behind the rest of the group. They were making their way along the West Road towards Denerim. Her anxiety had peaked upon leaving Redcliffe for the Landsmeet so much so that she had barely had time to even fret about her relationship with Zevran. They were getting along fine, sharing a tent at the end of every day, but they still had not discussed their last fight any further. Her thoughts were too focused on potentially naming Alistair king or finding Arl Howe to be anything other than grateful that Zevran was at least speaking to her. 

“We have,” Aurelia said quietly, turning to Wynne as she walked beside her. She didn’t dare say anymore, remembering the last conversation she’d had with Wynne about Zevran. 

“I am glad,” Wynne admitted and Aurelia could not keep her brows from arching in surprise. 

“You…are?”

“I have watched you for a time and…” her voice drifted off as the mage took a long sigh. “And perhaps I was wrong. There seems to be something special between the two of you.”

Wynne looked ahead and Aurelia followed her stare. Zevran was walking besides Leliana. The pair was singing an Antivan ballad Aurelia had never heard before. The rest of the group heckled them, but Aurelia smiled slightly. As if sensing her gaze, Zevran glanced over his shoulder at her, smiling brightly and sending her a wink.

“His demeanor changes when he’s with you. There’s a tenderness to his gaze I’d never seen ‘til now.”

Warmth flooded her as she smiled back at the assassin. Wynne was right. Every time he looked at her, there was a fondness in his eyes, a softness that she did not see when he spoke with the others. It made her feel foolish that she’d ever thought he’d choose one of their other female companions over her. 

“I’ve seen it from the start,” she said quietly. 

“Perhaps he just allowed you to see it,” Wynne countered and Aurelia tore her eyes away from Zevran to look at her. The older woman was smiling back at her. “I think I was harsh in my judgement before and I am sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Aurelia assured her. She reached out and laced her arm through Wynne’s, giving her elbow a light squeeze as they walked on. “You were just looking out for me.”

“It brings warmth to these old bones knowing that something so beautiful can be found in the midst of chaos and strife.” Wynne patted Aurelia’s hand. 

She quelled the overwhelming urge to reach out and hug Wynne. When Wynne had first admonished her about her relationship with Zevran, it had struck a cord within her. She often found herself wondering what her mother’s opinion of the Antivan would be. Wynne’s words had reminded her so much of her mother’s scolding tone that it made her heart ache. Knowing that Wynne had changed her mind about the two of them made her feel relieved. 

Perhaps it was silly, but Wynne had become the closest thing to a mother that she would have again. She didn’t dare say that to her, but Aurelia still could not help but feel glad she had least had Wynne’s blessing.

* * *

“I could get used to this,” Zevran sighed as he stretched out on the large four poster bed in her room. “Can we simply wait out the rest of the Blight here? Have servants bring us food. Make love all day long.”

Aurelia chuckled as she circled the room, blowing out candles. 

“We could lay a trap for the archdemon with fancy cakes and fine wine,” she teased. 

He was suddenly quiet as she pushed aside the blankets to the bed. She crawled in beside him and snuggled into his side, but he was on his back with his arm behind his head and did not move as she ran her hand up his chest. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. His face was in shadow, but from the dim light of the moon, she could partially make out his serious expression. 

“As a point of curiosity…” he said slowly. “What do you intend to do with me when this business of the Blight is over?”

She moved closer so she could squint at him through the darkness. 

“Why would I intend to do anything with you?” she asked, both surprised at his question but also confused. “You’re a free man, Zevran. You can go anytime you wish if you choose to.”

That seemed to shock him. His face turned to hers and she could make out the lines of his arched eyebrows. “Oh? That’s good to know,” he said quietly as if he was talking more to himself than to her. “But let’s assume I didn’t desire to leave when the time came. What then?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” she said, her fingers clenching into his side. The thought of him leaving – even hypothetically – made her stomach turn. Besides ending the Blight and getting through the Landsmeet, she had not put much thought into the future. He had not encouraged her to with his words and constant reassurance that this was just a distraction. “Why would you not leave if you could?”

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She was not certain she wanted to hear the answer to her question, but her mind was feverishly praying for she didn’t know what. A confession? A reassurance that he would stay by her side if they lived through this?

“What if I liked here?” he still spoke slowly, as if just testing the waters. His hand reached up to brush his thumb across her cheek. “What if we became fond of one another? Stranger things have happened, no?”

A bright smile exploded across her face and she turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand. It was as close to a confession that she was going to get out of him, but still even his hypothetical question made her heart sore. 

“And here I thought you hated Ferelden,” she teased. “And thought all Ferelden women resembled their dogs.”

“Well, that is not a lie, but there also happens to be some beautiful creatures here.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Should I leave you two to catch up?”

Aurelia wished she could be as casual as she sounded, but there was a feeling welling up in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly felt anxious and annoyed all in the same moment. Upon encountering the pirate, it unnerved her to see that she and Zevran were on such…familiar terms. 

“Any catching up Zevran and I have to do, we wouldn’t be doing out here in the market.” 

The innuendo was plain as day and Aurelia did her best to keep her face emotionless, but the same pang hit her again and she realized immediately what it was. She was jealous. 

“Now, Zev, shouldn’t you introduce us?”

“Indeed,” Zevran said, turning to Aurelia for the first time since they’d encountered the woman. He met Aurelia’s gaze and she could not help but glare at him slightly. He quirked one eyebrow at her in question, but went on regardless. “This is Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn.” He turned back to this Isabela. “And Isabela, my dear, you will no doubt be amused to discover that I am traveling with a Grey Warden.”

Amused? _Amused?_

It took all of her concentration not to ball her hands into fists let alone storm out of the Pearl like a petulant child. The two old friends continued snickering and casting glances at each other. It was infuriating. It was as if she was not there at all. 

“You will buy me a drink and we shall play a game, yes?”

Aurelia blinked, realizing she had been too busy silently fuming to hear where the conversation had gone, but both Zevran and Isabela were looking at her expectantly. 

“Er, what game?” she asked. 

“Wicked Grace have you played it?” Isabela asked, an unnerving grin covering her lips. 

“What’s Wicked Grace?” Aurelia asked, deeply regretting coming to this bar to begin with. 

Isabela and Zevran shared a look, obviously finding her naivety amusing, which only served to infuriate Aurelia more. 

She quickly lost the first two games, completely distracted as the other two easily chatted about she didn’t know what. She was seething and gripping her cards with far more strength than needed when Zevran turned to whisper to her. 

“You do know she’s cheating, yes?”

She rounded her face to his and spat, “How could you possibly notice when you haven’t taken your eyes out of her bosom all night?”

Rather than become angry, Zevran blinked at her several times, his eyebrows raising dangerously high as he stared at her. She glowered back, but still he showed no reaction. Instead, he took a swig of his drink and said simply, “Let me see if I can help.”

He turned away and Aurelia looked up to see Isabela watching them curiously, but all Aurelia could do was glare back down at her cards. 

The next game was dealt, but Aurelia was so busy imagining Zevran and Isabela in bed together, she almost didn’t notice as a hand slipped down her thigh. When she went to push his hand away, her teeth grinding dangerously, she was more than a little surprised to feel him tuck two cards into her hand.

* * *

“You helped her win, didn’t you?” 

Isabela had stopped him on their way out the door. He held back momentarily to say goodbye, but he felt Aurelia’s eyes burning into the back of his skull. He sighed inwardly, knowing that he would be cast out with Mac tonight should he not find a way to appease her. 

“Now what makes you think the Warden did not win of her own volition, hm?” 

“Because I’ve met chantry sisters who play cards better than she does,” she retorted. “With that stick so far up her ass, she must be one of those Ferelden noble girls.”

“Ah, Isabela, do not judge her too harshly. She has had a great deal of stress as of late,” he said, casting Aurelia a glance over his shoulder. She looked as though she was planning his death as they spoke. “Speaking of which, we should leave. Much to do, Arl’s to murder, darkspawn to kill.”

“Aw, Zev,” Isabela cooed, placing a hand on his chest. “Leave the Princess and come back to my ship. Just one night. She can even come along if she likes.”

He smiled, but shook his head nonetheless. It surprised him a little how easy it was to deny her. A year ago, he would have gladly jumped at the offer. Now, however, his mind was only concerned with how he was going to get back into his warden’s good graces. 

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind them, and he glanced up again to see Aurelia motioning towards the door. 

“As hard as it is to say no, my dear, I must go. With the Maker’s blessing, we should meet again soon.”

The entire way back to Arl Eamon’s estate, Aurelia refused to speak with him. Even upon entering the manor, she did not so much as look at him and stomped up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. She did not lock it, though, and he shut it behind him, wearily. 

“Jealousy is not a good look for you, my darling,” he cooed as he removed his weapons and set them in an empty chair. 

“I am not jealous!” she snapped, not bothering to turn and look at him. She wrenched her armor off and let it fall to the floor without bothering to pick it up. He sighed as he watched her and removed his own armor, placing it neatly in a pile. “I don’t know why you bothered coming back when she was practically throwing herself at you.”

“She did offer for _both of us_ to accompany her to her ship,” he said and she glowered at him with as much ferocity as her mabari. “Alas, I denied her. I do not think you are the type to share.”

When she was in nothing but her shirt and small clothes, she moved to the vanity and began dragging a brush through her unruly hair with such force, he worried she would go bald. Moving to stand behind her, he placed his hands gingerly on her waist and pulled her against him. She was so tense. He could feel how steely her muscles were as she refused to relax against him. His lips found her neck and blazed a path to her ear. 

“All day I have been thinking only of you,” he whispered into her ear, his hands moving under her shirt to skim up her stomach. He felt her shudder against him and he could not help but feel somewhat satisfied. “The way you feel in my hands,” he continued as he undid her stays. He let them fall to the floor and squeezed her breasts tightly. “How good it feels when I am inside you.”

He pinched her nipples and she bucked against him. He kept one hand on her breast as he moved the other down into her small clothes. His fingers quickly found her clit and she shivered again. 

“You’re a lecherous bastard,” she cursed him, but her hand dropped the brush and reached behind her to pull his hips closer as she ground back against him. 

“Would you have me any other way?” 

She grumbled under her breath. He was not able to make out her words exactly, but he heard more than one swear and chuckled lightly. Her hands left him and moved to push her small clothes down over her ass. “Stop talking and take me before I change my mind about killing you,” she hissed and he took a sharp intake of breath, but did not waste anytime in removing the last of his clothes. 

Her palms rested flat against the vanity and he pushed her forward slightly as he entered her from behind. They both sighed at the feeling as he began to pump in and out of her. 

It did not take long for her to begin panting. He would his fingers through her hair as he watched her face in the mirror. Her eyes were shut and her cheeks were flushed. Her mouth hung open slightly as she said his name repeatedly. He moved forward so his chest rested against her back, one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her close to him. Pulling her hair, he brought her ear closer to his mouth. Her eyes opened as she growled, but their eyes met and she looked as though she was going to collapse. 

“She is in the past, Lia. Now,” he had to bite back a moan as he slammed into her again. “I only want you.”

* * *

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she made her third attempt at brushing her hair. This time, Zevran appeared too sated to interrupt her as he laid sprawled across the mattress on his stomach, his head resting on his folded arms as he watched her with an intense gaze. 

“How did you two meet?” she asked, breaking the silence that had hung over them comfortably. 

Without missing a beat, Zevran said simply, “I assassinated her husband.”

The brush in her hand stilled mid stroke and she stared at him, eyes wide. 

“We were having an affair before that,” he confessed, moving to rest his head on the palm of his hand. “There was an attraction there, of course, but I think she was using me a bit. Her husband treated her like a doll and she wanted to test the boundaries of her gilded cage.”

He said it all so casually, as if he were telling her about what he had for dinner. Aurelia sat down on the edge of the bed; her brush forgotten in her hand. 

“She had him killed?”

“Now that you mention it,” Zevran said with a small chuckle. “I do not know. The contract for his murder went out for bid soon after he offered to ‘borrow’ Isabela to certain friends of his. Seems rather coincidental but she has never taken responsibility for his death. Even if she did, there is no way to know she is telling the truth.”

“After that, you two didn’t…?” Continue your love affair? Have passionate sex on his grave? So many thoughts ran through Aurelia’s mind, but she couldn’t put any to words. Zevran laughed again, obviously hearing the connotation in her voice. 

“Maker, no,” he asserted. “Last I saw her, I gave her two of my daggers and she was off to bribe a group of sailors to help her commandeer her late husband’s ship.” His gaze met hers and he gave her a reassuring smile, answering her unspoken question, “There was never anything serious between us, Aurelia. You need not worry about my running off to seek a life of piracy.”

A blush crept up her cheeks and she tore her eyes away to stare at her fiddling hands. “If you wanted to, you could. I don’t own you,” she said quietly as she stood from the bed. Before she could walk away his arm was around her waist, pulling her down onto the bed. A loud squeak of surprise left her as she fell back onto the mattress beside him. 

“And leave you to save the world by yourself?” he made a ‘tsk’ sound with his tongue as he shook his head at her. “I would surely miss out on all the fun.”

She went to argue again, but he silenced her with a kiss.


	15. Chapter 15

“It’s not too late,” Taliesen said. “Come back and we’ll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake.”

A mistake was walking through abandoned alleyways in Denerim and not immediately sensing danger was imminent, Zevran silently cursed himself. Being bested by Aurelia and allowed to live? He could not call that a mistake. He may not have prayed to the Maker in some time, but he felt his meeting the beautiful warden had more to do with fate than a mistake on his part. 

He heard her sigh next to him and he turned to look at her. Her face was resigned as she stared up at his old comrade. A small frown tugged down her face. 

“Of course, that means I’d have to be dead first.”

Without even thinking, he reassured her, “And I am not about to let that happen.”

Their eyes met and he could easily see the relief in her gray eyes. It hurt him slightly to think that she would even question his loyalty to her, his lo—

No. Meeting Aurelia had been far from a mistake. It had been the brightest moment in his otherwise sad existence.

“What?” Taliesen exclaimed. “You’ve gone soft!”

Zevran looked back up at his old friend, his former lover. Regret ate at his stomach as he realized inevitably what must come next. For probably the first time in his career, he felt regret at what he must do. 

“I’m sorry, my old friend, but the answer is no,” he sighed, wishing there was another option besides death, but as he glanced at Aurelia once more, he knew that he would not hesitate to strike the final blow should it be a choice between her and anyone else in Thedas. “And you should have stayed in Antiva.”

* * *

Aurelia stared up at him in shock as his voice suddenly rose to a level she had never heard before.

“You are a very frustrating woman to deal with, do you know that?” he snapped at her, standing up from where he sat. “We pick up every other bit of treasure we come across, but not this. You don’t want earring, you don’t get earring! Very simple.”

Before she knew what was happening, he’d reached down and grabbed the golden earring out of her hands and marched out of the library. She sat where she was for several moments, not able to move, thinking back on the conversation and wondering where she’d gone wrong. 

Sensing that he would rather not discuss the death of his former colleague and friend, Aurelia had given Zevran his privacy when they returned to the estate. He was silent their entire way back and quickly snuck off to be alone. 

She had been surprised when he resurfaced that night, seeking her out in the library as she sat curled up in a chair with a book on the history of Orlais. 

“Here,” he said simply, holding something out to her. His voice was so different than she was used to. He was not trying to sound cheerful or humorous. His eyes were downcast and his frown was deeper than she’d ever seen. “I think it an appropriate moment to give you this.”

She folded her book into her lap as he sat on the ottoman across from her. She reached out and took the small gold hoop earing he offered her. 

Not able to hide the confusion from her face, she asked simply, “An earring?”

As her mind replayed the conversation, she realized that he had begun to act like a skittish deer as soon as she asked whether or not it was a token of affection. She had only been partly serious when she’d told him she wouldn’t take it unless it meant something, but there was no chance of explaining that now. 

Overwhelmed with confusion, she found herself knocking on Leliana’s door. 

“From his first job? I’m surprised he did not sell it by now,” Leliana commented as Aurelia began to relay the conversation. She shot the bard a look that said ‘not helping’ and Leliana shrugged. “Not important. What did he say next?”

“He said it meant a lot to him but so has what I’ve done?” she asked questioningly as she paced in front of the fire place. Leliana sat with her fingers laced in front of her face. She had a thoughtful expression, but she was proving to have as little insight as Aurelia did. 

“Perhaps he is just terrible at giving gifts or expressing thanks?” the redhead said with a shrug. 

With a huff, Aurelia sat upon the edge of the bed. “He’s never spoken to me like that, Lel,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve heard him get that frustrated with anyone, in fact. He was so serious and…angry.”

Even when he had accused her of being in love with Alistair, he had not raised his voice to her. Her stomach turned as she heard his voice again in her head. 

“I think he’s in love with you,” Leliana said simply as she stood to pour herself a glass of wine. 

“Huh?” Aurelia asked dumbly, not certain she’d heard her friend correctly. “How would you get that out of what I told you?”

“It’s not just what you told me,” she said, sitting next to Aurelia and offering her the glass. “I’ve watched him and it’s clear as day. We all see it.”

“Then why would he insist that it was not a token of affection?” Aurelia countered. 

“Because he is scared,” Leliana offered. “From what he’s shared with me of his life, I do not think there has been much joy let alone love in his past. This is probably new to him. If you have closed off your heart for so long, it can be frightening to admit, even to yourself, that someone has wormed their way inside it.”

“Wormed? I did not worm,” Aurelia grumbled before taking a large gulp of wine. 

But Leliana’s words still stuck with her as she stared into the fire. 

“Life would be so much simpler if I’d just stayed a virgin until I died.”

* * *

Sequestering himself in the garden for the majority of the following day, he was able to avoid her until dinner. Even then, he got up to leave earlier than the rest of the group, but still she followed him. 

A weary sigh left him as he heard her footsteps following him down the corridor. 

“Zevran,” she called out. 

Not able to pretend as if he didn’t hear her, he forced a nonchalant expression onto his face and turned to look at her. She smiled at him, but it faltered when she saw look he wore. Still, she forced herself to smile at him even as her eyes filled with concern. 

“Will you not join me in my room tonight?” she asked, the hopefulness in her voice making him feel nauseous. 

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “Perhaps another time.”

Her smile immediately faded and it took all his self-control not to reach out to her. He desired nothing more than to pull her into his arms and disappear back into the quiet sanctuary of her bed. 

“I’m sorry,” she said docilely, her eyes falling to the ground. 

“Do not apologize just…” he could not bare to look at her any longer and turned to walk away. “Just, do not ask.”

When he reached the end of the corridor, he glanced behind him once more. She still stood where he’d left her, looking just as hurt and confused as she’d been when he’d ripped the earring out of her hand.


	16. Chapter 16

A melancholy had settled over him since their argument over the earring. He knew that he was being foolish, childish even, but he still could not bring himself to face her. Or even himself. 

She had been so insistent that she would not take the gift unless it meant something. It made no sense to him. She gave out gifts as if they were air, but he could not give her a simple gift, a gesture of thanks without her reading into it?

She made him want to scream. Why was it so important that everything have meaning? Was it not enough that he had thought of her?

_That I am always thinking of her._

The thought made him sigh. As much as he fought to deny it, he could no longer hide – at least not from himself – the fact that he had feelings for her. He cared for her, more deeply than he ever had before. It only made matters worse that she could see beneath his façade, beneath the excuses he made and the lies he told even himself. When she looked at him now, it was as if she could read his mind. 

It terrified him. 

She had come to him since their disagreement to ask him to share her bed, but he could not allow himself to do it. Once he had admitted the truth to himself of the depths of his feelings for her, it seemed an impossibility to ever share her bed again. Did she know of his mind? Had she already concluded why it was he was upset? He would not put it past her. To have someone with such knowledge of him would make him weak, he asserted to himself. 

Yet, if he did tell her only for her not to share those feelings…that surely would be a worse fate. He did not know if his heart would be able to survive such a rejection. Not from her. 

Zevran was muddling through this avalanche of fear and regret as his feet walked without any input from his brain. He had to find her and talk with her. Tell her what was truly on his mind. 

He thought he might find her in the Arl’s office, so he waited outside the door, his ear’s perked for any conversation. 

“—she will do her duty to the crown, just as she was raised to.”

“And if she does not wish to marry Alistair or Alistair to marry her?” 

She was not there, Zevran let out a small breath of disappointment. Not wishing to hear yet another argument for Anora marrying the bastard prince, he turned to leave but—

“She is a Cousland,” Eamon was insisting. “The Couslands have always done what is best for Ferelden. Aurelia will see this is the best plan for securing stability. Besides that, they appear to be fond of one another.”

His heart stopped beating for a moment. Aurelia marry Alistair?

All other worries left his mind as he pictured it. Aurelia and Alistair ruling side by side. The image haunted him, but did not surprise him. Eamon was right, of course. She was a Cousland first before all else. She had said so herself. 

Not only two days past, he had heard Alistair ask her, _” Is it still so important that you seek out Howe? You are a Grey Warden now, he cannot touch you.”_

Aurelia had looked as resolute as always, _”First and foremost, I am a Cousland. I was born a Cousland and I will die a Cousland. I cannot let him get away with what he has done.”_

His fists clenched in anger, he pushed away from the wall and stalked back down the hallway. When he rounded a corner, he came face to face with the two wardens, but could not meet their eyes as he pushed past them.

* * *

“Zevran?” she called after him, but if he heard her, he did not bother to acknowledge it. 

“What’s gotten in to him? He’s been so moody lately,” Alistair commented as they made their way to the Arl’s study. 

Aurelia sighed and shrugged, feigning ignorance. He did not push matters once they were through the door and faced with Teagan and Eamon staring at them expectantly. 

“Why do I get the feeling we’re in trouble?” Aurelia commented lightly, narrowing her eyes at the two other nobles. 

“It looks like we’re about to be put in time out,” Alistair whispered a little too loudly. Covering his mouth as he turned to talk to her did not keep the look of annoyance off the men’s faces. 

“Now that you’re both here, we must discuss something with you,” the Bann started. He looked rather unsettled in Aurelia’s opinion as he fiddled with his fingers. Maybe they really were in trouble. 

“Yes, we have been discussing the matter and we believe the best course of action to secure the stability of the kingdom is for Alistair to make a political marriage.”

The wardens both groaned. 

“How many times do we have to discuss this? We all know that Anora will never have me.”

“I was not speaking of Anora,” Eamon said and looked pointedly at Aurelia. 

Still lost in her own thoughts, wondering wistfully if Zevran would ever speak with her again let alone smile in her direction, she did not fully comprehend the insinuation. She blinked and did her best to act as though she’d been paying attention. 

“If not Anora, then who? You’re not thinking of one of those Edgehall girls, are you?”

“What’s wrong with them?” Alistair asked, sensing the disdain in her voice. 

Turning to him, she said under her breath, “They’re dull as bricks, besides I hear their father is a nut--”

“We are speaking of you, Aurelia Cousland,” Eamon said impatiently. 

Alistair and Aurelia both went silent before Alistair began to laugh. 

“You’re joking! Oh, good for a second I thought you were—”

“They’re serious, Al,” she said. They had not used her family name for nothing. All of sudden, memories of all the men and women of noble houses who’d come to Highever seeking her hand for their son came flashing back. Every time they had tried to get at her parents by using honor and lineage as an excuse. The sickening reality that even as a Grey Warden she could not escape the game hit her like a bag of rocks. “But it’s not me you’d be marrying. Just my name.”

Alistair stared at her in shock, but before he could form words, Eamon spoke up once more. 

“You have the ability to unite the noble houses, Aurelia,” he said. “You are the Teyrna of Highever—”

“I am _not_ the Teyrna,” she snapped, anger filling her veins. “My brother may still live.”

“Even if he were still alive,” Teagan interjected, trying to calm the tensions. “A Cousland ruling beside Alistair would provide legitimacy—”

“No.”

Alistair’s strong voice silenced them all. Aurelia stared at him. He stood up straight and his eyes were firm as he stared down the two noble men. She felt a sudden desire to hug him, but she held herself back. He met her gaze for a second, a silent apology written all over his expression before he turned back to Eamon. 

“We will not be married and that is final.”

“Alistair, you must understand it is the duty of the nobility to—”

“Are you suggesting Aurelia has not already done enough for this country?” he snapped. “We will not do it. Now if you don’t mind, we have er—Wardeny things to do.”

With that, he turned and opened the door with a little more force than he intended. He looked meek as he left the room, surprised by his own strength. Aurelia followed him, giving a small shrug to Eamon and Teagan on her way out the door. 

When they were out of earshot, she teased, “You were doing really well there until the end. ‘Wardeny?’ Really?”

“Oh, shut up,” he snipped at her. “Don’t make me get down on one knee, my lad—ow!”

She punched him in the arm hard and he reached up to rub the spot, a hurt look on his face.

* * *

“Enough! I said I’m not interested. Can you not understand that? There are other things for you to focus on besides me. Do those!”

He did not wait for her to respond and instead, left her speechless, standing in the corridor with a look of shock upon her face as he stalked away.

While only hours previous he had been determined to seek her out and be open with her, now Zevran could not control the anger that filled him just by seeing her face. How could she flirt with him and ask him to her bed when he knew very well that she’d be Queen by this time next year? Back to living the life of nobility? She’d be concerned with producing heirs and running Alistair’s kingdom. 

The image of them together made bile fill his throat. He could not stay and watch as she wed another. Did she understand him so little that she thought he would not mind? That he would stay and be her side piece as she wed Alistair?

“If you want to end it, Zevran, stop being a coward and just do it already!”

Her voice came from behind him at a shout. 

He stopped abruptly, his back tense. He took deep breaths to control his emotions, his nails biting into the palms of his hands as he balled his fists. 

“Is that what you wish?” he asked, not turning to her. His voice was an unnerving hiss. 

“It seems to be what you wish,” she shot back. Her footsteps echoed down the hall towards him. He turned slowly to meet her gaze, fury flashing across his hazel eyes, but she refused to be cowed. “We’ve had our fun, right?”

She threw his own words back at him and they knocked the wind out of him. Yet, he kept his mask firmly in place. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing his hurt, seeing the betrayal that filled him like a poison. 

“Then let it never be said Zevran stays where he is not wanted.”

Before she could even blink, he turned and continued down the hall. 

“Zevran—please!” she called after him as she jogged down the hall. “Please, I didn’t mean it! Don’t go!”

“No,” he growled. “I have no desire to stay and be forced to watch what I cannot have. If I am a coward, so be it.” 

He stopped abruptly and turned to her once more. As he saw the hurt and shock marring her face, all he could do was give her a small bow. “Fare thee well, my love.”

He walked into the library and grabbed the small bag of his belongings he’d stowed behind a dust covered shelf. He had the window opened and his foot on the sill before he could hear her voice once more.

“Zevran, please, let us just ta—”

It was too late. He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna get a little (okay a lot, if they already haven't) AU in the next few chapters. Sorry in advance!


	17. Chapter 17

“He’s left,” Wynne said solemnly upon shutting the door to Aurelia’s room. She had found the warden sitting in the library late the previous night after Wynne had gotten up to investigate the shouting she’d heard. The younger woman had been too upset to talk then, but had told her the full story this morning when Wynne came to check on her. 

“Gone?” Leliana exclaimed. “Gone where?”

“Keep your voice down, will you,” Morrigan scolded her. “Do you want the entire house to hear you?”

“I don’t know,” Wynne said worriedly. “He simply left.”

“That stupid, nug-eating piece of—”

“Language,” Wynne scolded, shooting Alistair a disapproving glare. 

“Sorry,” he grumbled. “But we must find him.”

“I agree,” Leliana and Morrigan both said in unison. The redhead shot the witch a surprised expression and Morrigan gave her an incredulous look in return. 

“Yes, we should search him out,” Sten said. “Breaking his legs will be a suitable punishment.”

“No, no,” Alistair waved his hands. “No leg breaking!”

“We shall crush his skull then,” Shale said with conviction. 

Alistair groaned. It was not as though he did not feel a similar impulse, but he did not want to face Aurelia’s wrath – or her blade – should they return covered in the assassin’s blood. 

“I shall go look for him,” Leliana said finally. “The rest of you, distract her as best you can.”

“I’m coming, too,” Alistair insisted, following Leliana toward the main door. “Make up a story about where we’ve gone!” he called over his shoulder. 

Suddenly, the door opened behind Wynne and Aurelia stuck her head into the hall way. “Why are you making up stories about where they’re going?”

They all stared at her, but Morrigan was quickest to react, “They’ve gone to find you a present for your birthday.”

Aurelia looked suspicious. “My birthday isn’t for another two months.”

“Knowing Alistair, it will take him that long to find a present,” Morrigan jibed with a shrug.

* * *

There was a ship leaving for Antiva, but it would not depart until morning. Even twenty-four hours would be too long in this Maker forsaken country. He wanted to be done with it already. He wanted to get as far away from this place – and her -- as possible. 

_You made a promise,_ he reminded himself not for the first time since he’d disappeared from the Arl’s estate. 

Promises, he scoffed, clicking his tongue in annoyance at his own thoughts. 

Still, the guilt lingered. He may have been a thief and a murderer, but he was not a liar. When he gave his word, he kept it. 

He was torn between two options that both seemed only to lead to more misery. Return to Antiva and throw himself at the mercy of the Crows. Or stay and watch the woman he cared most for marry another man. A man he had come to consider a friend. 

His hands clenched into fists as he decided for the tenth time that day that even death would be better than pining after a married woman. 

He would wait for that ship to Antiva, but in the meantime he would drink himself into a stupor and forget the Warden ever existed.

* * *

“Where did they really go?” Aurelia asked, eying Oghren suspiciously as she finished sharpening her blades. 

The dwarf looked from her blades to her face and visually gulped. 

“Like the witch said, to find you a present,” he insisted. 

She sheathed her weapons and instead focused on counting the healing potions she had in her pack. 

“Shame,” she said dryly. “They will miss all the fun.”

She caught Wynne and Morrigan exchanging glances from the corner of her eye, but she chose to ignore it. What she was truly thinking was that Zevran would miss this. He had promised her that he’d help her seek revenge on her family’s murderer, but he had lied. He was gone as were Leliana and Alistair. She felt suddenly angry that her closest friends had all decided to desert her the moment she most needed them. 

“Do not do anything fool hardy, Aurelia,” Morrigan warned, her eyes boring into her friend’s skull. 

Aurelia did not look up at her as she lied, “We’re just going to rescue Anora. That is all.”

“You don’t give a fig about, Anora. You’re a terrible liar,” Morrigan snapped. She wasn’t wrong. Aurelia’s blood had pumped with adrenalin when she heard Anora’s maid say that Howe was holding her hostage. This was her opportunity and she would not let it get away from her. “Revenge is not worth your—”

“I do believe that is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Aurelia cut her off, plastering a smile on her face as she looked up at the mage finally. 

“It may be the last thing you hear me say,” Morrigan said solemnly. “Be cautious.”

As Aurelia, Wynne, Sten, and Oghren made their way through the front gate, she glanced back to see Morrigan and Shale watching her go with resignation. She smiled and waved at them cheerily, but Morrigan just shook her head.

* * *

“We’ve searched everywhere,” Alistair bemoaned. “Maybe he’s already left the city?”

“No, the harbor master said the boat for Antiva would not leave until tomorrow,” Leliana insisted. 

They were wandering aimlessly around the market, making their tenth round around the stalls that day. They had searched the alienage, the alley ways, the docks, everywhere and the elf was nowhere to be found. 

“If you were Zevran, where would you go to pass the time?” Leliana asked, stopping from their walking to chew on her thumb nail in concentration. 

“Probably a brothel,” Alistair grumbled. “Who’s to say he’s even returning to—”

“That’s it! We haven’t yet checked the Pearl!”

* * *

Alcohol had the opposite effect to what he was hoping to achieve. Rather than quieting his guilt or removing his thoughts of Aurelia, they only intensified. 

He imagined her now, sitting in the Arl’s mansion, laughing easily with that templar. He could see the smile on her face, hear her voice. He could smell the soap she used in her hair. He could see the glint that shown in her eyes whenever she got excited. 

She would not leave him and he resented her all the more for it. 

“Another,” he demanded, dropping his glass onto the counter. 

He could hear the door open to establishment behind him, but he did not bother to turn. There was no one he was waiting for. 

“There you are, you bloody coward,” he heard from behind him and Zevran’s eyes immediately narrowed dangerously. 

So, Alistair had come looking for him, the man whose murder he’d contemplated regularly over the past day. Alistair seemed to share the sentiment as he stalked across the bar, but Zevran did not turn as he carefully waited for the footsteps to get closer. When he sensed the warden was only a foot or two behind him, Zevran whirled to face him.

If he weren’t in such a blind rage, Zevran would have been impressed with Alistair’s block as the assassin struck out with his left fist, aiming for the taller man’s face. Alistair quickly grabbed his right arm as Zevran threw another punch, his other hand wrapped around Zevran’s shoulders. Zevran felt a leg hook behind his own trying take him off his feet, but he was quicker than Alistair. Spinning them to free his legs, he stepped back and kneed Alistair in the gut.

Shocked gasps, emitted from the rest of the patrons and he briefly heard Leliana voice, “For Maker’s sake—” but he paid her no attention. 

“That’s how it is, huh?” Alistair panted, the breath knocked out of him. “And here I thought you were a friend.” 

Zevran aimed for his face once more, but Alistair dodged. The bigger man’s arm wrapped around Zevran’s neck, attempting to put him in a lock, but Zevran ducked free, his arms immediately moving to cover his face as Alistair surged forward. He swerved away from it, feeling Alistair’s fist graze just over his head. 

“As did I,” Zevran growled back. “But you are a liar as well as a cheat.”

“I’m the liar?” Alistair spat. “I didn’t make Aurelia fall in love with me only to walk out the—”

Zevran grabbed a hold of Alistair’s arm as a fist flew past his face by mere inches. Pulling downward on his arm, he kicked Alistair’s feet out from under him in the same breath and Alistair fell with a loud ‘oof’ to the floor. Spinning back around, Zevran pulled his dagger from its sheath and had it aimed at Alistair’s throat, but the large oaf was quicker than he expected. Laying on his back on the floor, his own sword was drawn and pointed at Zevran. 

“You knew how I cared for her,” Zevran snarled. “And you still took her from me.”

Alistair looked confused, his hands faltering and Zevran began to move forward, ready to strike, but suddenly there was cold steel pressed against his throat. His eyes darted to his right and there was Leliana. She had a blade in each hand, one pointed at each of her friends. 

“Stop this,” she scolded. “Or I will cut both of your throats myself.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic violence and blood. Move ahead to the 2nd break to skip.

“Well, look here.”

Hearing his voice did not affect her in the way she thought it would. Instead of making her boil over with rage, she felt an unusual sense of calm as she stopped in front of him. His arms were crossed and he had the same smug look on his face that had always irritated her to know end as a child. 

She was not angry. She was relieved. She had gotten him where she wanted him at last. 

“Bryce Cousland’s little spitfire,” he continued to drawl. “All grown up and still playing the man. I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten.”

Her eyes surveyed the room. One mage. Three guards. They were outnumbered by only one. Good. 

“After I’ve killed you,” Aurelia said evenly. “I will kill your wife and son, too.”

Sten emitted a growl of warning or concern from behind her. She could not tell which, but she paid it no mind. 

“Isn’t that precious? Is this where I lament the monster I helped create? You’re still so very new to this. Shall I show you how it’s done? I made your mother kiss my feet as she died. It was the last thing your father—”

“Liar,” she said through gritted teeth. She could hear her father’s voice in her ear. She gripped her daggers and ripped them from their sheath. She swung at his head, but instead of cutting open his skull, metal smashed against metal. 

Battle erupted around her, but she saw no one but Howe. One of his guards had come at her from behind, but was quickly overtaken by Oghren’s axe as Aurelia ducked out of the way. 

She struck at Howe again, but he deflected her. He lunged, his sword moving straight towards her face, but she side stepped just in time for it to only nick her shoulder. The sharp pain did not stop her. She jumped forward again, daggers raised, but he once more caught her blades with his own. Stepping to the side, he was suddenly behind her and she felt the end of his sword rip open the armor on her back. 

A gasp left her as she whirled. Dark spots blinded her as she set her jaw against the pain. She stepped away from him, wondering if she had enough time to gulp down a healing potion. 

“You Couslands are too easy to kill,” Howe said, sounding victorious as he raised his sword to chop down upon her. 

That was when she saw it and she could hear Zevran’s voice as clear as day. 

_”Find your opponent’s weakness. Find it and do not relent until they lie dead at your feet.”_

As his arm moved towards her head, she struck out and cut at his wrist, the beautifully exposed skin that was not covered by his arm guard, before stepping to the side. His yell of anger and the blood sprouting from his wound only propelled her forward. His sword struck the ground instead of its intended target and she quickly hit while he was at the disadvantage. 

She swiped her blade against the back of his tricep. Having disabled him from using his elbow or arm, he dropped his sword and his hand instinctually moved to cover the wound, but her boot was already under his chin. She kicked him so hard, her toes screamed in protest, but the pain had been worth it to see him lying on his back before her. 

“Shall I make you kiss my feet?” she hissed as she stood over him. 

“I—I will not be beaten,” he hissed, still helplessly trying to reach for his sword, but she pressed the heel of her boot into his already bleeding wrist. “You will—you will bow to me!”

She kneeled and spat in his face. 

“Couslands,” she said slowly, making certain that he heard the words her father had told her so many times before she slit his throat. “Bow to no one but the king.”

* * *

They were thrown out of the Pearl, quite literally. Only Leliana was able to walk out the door without the ‘help’ of a guard. 

“Yes, yes,” Zevran sighed. “You want us to leave, we understand.”

Two big men held onto each of his arms as they tossed him into a pile of crates on the opposite side of the door. There was a second smash as Alistair landed next to him. They both went for their weapons, but Leliana interjected once more. 

“What is wrong with the two of you?” she asked as she kicked Zevran’s dagger out of his hand. “You,” she snapped, pointing her blade at Alistair. “Behave.”

Zevran felt somewhat appeased, seeing the downcast expression on the warden’s face, but his victory was short lived as Leliana then pointed her dagger at him. 

“We did not come here to fight you,” she said, her voice serious and laced with concern. “We came to try to talk some sense into you.”

“I am thinking sensibly,” he retorted, getting to his feet. Leliana finally lowered her blade a fraction, but did not put it away. “For the first time in months, actually. I should have left sooner.”

“How can you say that?” Alistair exploded. His face looked as though Zevran had slapped him. “We trusted you. We all trusted you, yet you disappear like a thief in the night. Not even a goodbye!”

“Oh, I am sorry,” Zevran said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you simply upset I did not stay for the wedding?”

Leliana and Alistair both stared at him, confusion riddling their faces. 

“Wedding?” Leliana asked, looking to Alistair for help. “What wedding?”

“Perhaps I should have said congratulations before I left,” Zevran went on. “You are a liar, Alistair. You told me there was nothing between the two of you.”

Alistair stood looking dumbfounded for a moment, but realization suddenly dawned on his face. 

“What is he talking—” Leliana started to say, but Alistair cut her off. 

“You stupid ass!” 

Zevran barely dodged the piece of crate Alistair chucked at his head. 

“You are a complete and utter moron!” Alistair raged as he picked up another piece of wood and flung it at Zevran. He was not able to dodge this one and it struck him in the shoulder. He lunged forward, meaning to tackle Alistair, but Leliana stood between them, catching Zevran by the arm just in time. “I told Arl Eamon no, you giant git!”

It was Zevran’s turn to look shocked. His guilt overwhelmed him as he understood the gravity of his mistake. 

“You…you are not marrying Aurelia?”

“You thought they were getting _married_?” Leliana asked, trying to stifle chuckles. 

“Why in the Maker’s name would I want to marry someone I’ve heard you having sex with for months?!” Alistair said so exasperatedly that he forgot the board in his hand and waved it around as his arms gestured wildly. 

Leliana smiled lopsidedly at Zevran as she plucked the wood from Alistair’s hand. 

“I think you may owe Aurelia an apology, no?”

“And me, as well,” Alistair huffed. “The idiot tried to stab me!”

Their silence on the walk back to the Arl’s estate was only broken by Alistair’s occasional incredulous outbursts. He continued to call Zevran every synonym for ‘idiot’ he could think of, but Zevran could not bother arguing with him. He knew the man was right. 

“Was she…very upset?” Zevran asked, his voice meek. 

“That’s an understatement,” Alistair grumbled under his breath. 

“She cried for hours,” Leliana responded solemnly. She turned to look at him as they walked, but he could not look her in the face. 

Worry had overtaken him. Worry about her reaction. Worry over whether or not she would forgive him. Worry that he had ruined the one good thing in his life. He had already accused her of caring for Alistair once and she had forgiven him. Would she be so kind a second time?

As they walked through the main door, Shale’s booming voice overtook them. 

“You resemble a dog with its tail between its legs,” the golem said, laughter lacing through her words. 

“You, elf,” Morrigan scowled, her arms folded as she glared down at him from the top of the staircase. “Have quite a bit of explaining to do.”

Mac bounded around his legs excitedly, but Zevran could only pat the dog’s head lightly as he asked, “Where is she?”

“Off to avenge her family,” Morrigan said lightly, though he thought he saw a hint of worry reflected in her eyes. “The _queen_ ,” she spoke the word with a great deal of disdain. “Has appeared to have been taken captive by Arl Howe.”

The unsettled feeling in his chest only intensified.

* * *

“Warden! In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms! Surrender, and you may be shown mercy.”

Aurelia immediately stood to fight. Turning to Sten, she ordered, “Take Anora and go.”

“No,” Wynne said, her voice filled with concern. “We will not leave y—”

“Do as I command!” Aurelia snapped before charging at the group of guards. She did not have a chance to see if they obeyed her when after only a few moments of futile fighting, everything went dark.


	19. Chapter 19

The group had not returned by nightfall and the remaining companions were beginning to pace. Zevran sat in a corner of the Arl’s office, not paying attention as Alistair and his uncle talked in worried, hushed voices. 

Suddenly, the missing party burst through the door, yet Aurelia was not among them. 

Seeing this, Zevran immediately stood, his brows furrowed with concern. 

“Eamon! We have a problem.”

“To put it mildly,” Wynne said under her breath. She caught Zevran’s eyes briefly and seemed to sigh with relief. 

Shale’s voice was its usual bored drawl. “Is anyone surprised? I am not surprised.”

Glancing up at the golum, Sten said with an equal lack of emotion, “Her grasp of the obvious is impressive.”

He could not respond other than with a glare as his mind was too focused on the discussion that continued around him. 

“The Warden has been captured,” Anora said and his hands immediately clenched into fists. 

“What? How could this happen?” Eamon said, sounding shocked. 

“Cauthrien will take her to Fort Draken. Getting in will be no small feat…”

“We have very little time for chat,” Wynne interjected. “We need to work out a plan.”

Zevran spoke for the first time and he felt many glares focus on himself. “I’m still waiting for a reason to not cut her throat and throw her into the river,” he growled, eyes narrowed and jaw set. 

Teagan took a step forward, glowering at Zevran, but Oghren moved between them. 

“Ah, there’s nothing her that can’t be solved with a few pints of ale, a nug, and a team of exotic dancers. Did you get that list, Eamon? Get moving.”

“Oh, good,” Alistair grumbled. “I was starting to worry this would be easy.”

It was eventually decided that only two of them should attempt to break into the Fort. Zevran was quick to volunteer himself, but the rest of the group immediately glared at him. 

“And how do we know you will not disappear again?” Morrigan accused him. 

Everyone else seemed to agree with her misgivings. Leliana was the only one who spoke up in his defense, “He is here now.”

* * *

“Zevran will come.” She spoke the words before her reasonable mind could catch up with her. 

Her already downcast face fell even further. Would he? He was probably on a boat to Antiva by now, with little thought of her. He wouldn’t even know that she had gone to Howe’s estate, let alone was imprisoned in Fort Drakon. A day ago, it would have only made sense for Zevran to arrive and rescue her from this place. Now, however, he was probably not concerned whether she lived or died. 

“Just him, huh?”

“Alistair will come,” she shot back as she slid down the stone wall. 

She pulled her knees to her chest and tried to avoid the moisture that dripped down her arm. The wound there still bled and the injury on her back felt as though it was going to rip open despite the healing potion she’d chugged before rescuing Anora. 

Whether hours or mere minutes passed, she wouldn’t have been able to say as she rested her head against her legs and shut her eyes, her mind lingering on her wonderings about what Zevran was doing at this moment.

* * *

“Next time, I should do the talking,” Alistair huffed as he fended off two guards. 

“If you had done the talking, we surely wouldn’t have even made it past the courtyard,” Zevran shot back, ducking just in time to miss a sword that was aimed at his neck. 

“You didn’t even give me the chance—” the taller man grumbled, but was cut off as an axe landed heavily against his shield. 

Zevran rolled his eyes. He wished that the party had chosen Shale or Sten to accompany him instead. At least it would have been a quieter trip to the dungeons. Instead, he had to listen to Alistair’s constant complaints and criticism. As he finished off the last guard he was fighting, he stabbed the warrior attacking Alistair in the back and Zevran stared up at his companion, shaking his head. 

“Check their pockets,” Zevran ordered as he kneeled down to turn over one of their victims. 

“Is now really the time to search for gold?” Alistair looked appalled. 

Taking a deep breath to keep him from snapping, he looked at Alistair evenly and said, “No. One of them has the key to the cells. Andraste, have you never broken into a prison before?”

“Of course not!”

“A virgin, in more ways than one,” Zevran clicked his tongue at him and returned to his task.

In his annoyance, it now seemed unbelievable that he would have thought Aurelia was going to marry this man. 

“Ah ha! I’ve got it!” Alistair all but shouted as he retrieved said key.

“Good, now keep it down.”

The first cell was an old man with one eye who ran past them without so much as a thanks. The next cell was dark and he could barely make out the form of a person curled up into a ball against the wall. The only distinguishing feature was a mop of matted brown hair that hung over her bare legs. 

“Thank the Maker,” Alistair burst out as he quickly moved to her side, resting his hand on her arm as he kneeled next to her. “You’re alright.”

Zevran took her in. She looked so small and weak. Her arm was covered in blood and as she lifted her face, he could see the bruises forming across her pale skin. She smiled at Alistair and covered his hand with her own, but her smile quickly faded as her eyes met Zevran’s. Her shock was apparent at first, but her face quickly grew cold as her gray eyes surveyed him. 

He swallowed hard as he stepped into the cell. “Did you miss me, my warden?” he asked as calmly as he could. She did not respond. Instead she stared at him for another few moments before turning back to Alistair. 

“Get me my things,” she ordered. It took them a moment, but they found her weapons and armor in a chest outside the cell. She changed with her back to them and Zevran saw the angry looking cut on her back. His heart hammered his chest as he stepped forward and place a hand on her shoulder. 

“You’re hurt—”

“Don’t touch me,” she yelped as soon as his fingers came into contact with her skin. She flinched away from him. 

Stepping back, he hung his arms at his side and simply watched as Alistair helped her adjust the straps of her armor. She took her daggers from Alistair at last, but still she only spoke to him, as if Zevran were not also present. 

“Let’s go,” she grumbled, taking the lead as they walked out of the cell. “I need a bath.”

* * *

It was such a relief to be back at Eamon’s estate. Not only because she could remove her battered armor and let Wynne heal her still bleeding wounds, but because she could get away from Zevran. 

Her first emotion at having seen him return was hope, but as soon as her eyes met his, an anger welled inside of her that rivaled even her rage towards Howe. She had accepted his leaving – or so she had told herself – she had made peace with it. He did not care for her as she had hoped, she told herself repeatedly. His mixed signals were nothing more than a game he was playing with her. She should have taken his words at face value when he insisted they were nothing more than ‘fun’ to one another.

But there he stood. Just when she had finally felt like she had come up with a plausible explanation not only for his departure but for whatever it was that had been between them these past months, he appeared only to confound her even more. 

She stomped around her room, kicking a chair that got in her way, throwing a book that had somehow offended her. Taking a deep breath, she leaned over her vanity and stared at herself in the mirror. 

_You’re alone,_ she reminded herself again. 

Killing Howe had not subsided that thought. In fact, it had only intensified it. She had gotten her revenge on the man that had murdered her family, but there was no satisfaction in it. There was no magical moment of absolution for not having protected them. There was no peace. Nothing. 

If anything, getting her revenge only served to remind her that no matter what she did in this life, she would forever be alone. 

She had let herself hope with Zevran and that made her even angrier. The reality sank in as she looked into her own face. It was not him she wanted to scream and yell at, but herself. She had been weak. She had let him in and he had simply confirmed every sentiment of guilt and self-loathing she’d told herself repeatedly this past year. 

The door opened, interrupting her thoughts, but rather than quelling her anger, her rage felt renewed as she caught site of Zevran in the mirror behind her. He looked so meek and apologetic, but still she balled her hands into fists and stared down at the vanity. She took deep breaths to try to calm herself, but still she could not stop her brain from repeating the reality she’d come to accept. 

_Everyone you love will leave you._


	20. Chapter 20

Immediately upon seeing her as he let himself into her room, Zevran wondered if he wasn’t signing his own death sentence. 

Her back was turned to him as he entered the room. He shut the door quietly behind him. If she heard him enter, she made no move to greet him. Her body was rigid as she stood over the vanity, her hands balled into fists that were set firmly on the counter top. He could only see a portion of her face in the mirror, the rest covered by her hair that fell about her features like a curtain. There was a murderous look in her eyes as she glared down at her hands. 

He wondered now at the wisdom of Wynne’s advice. She had found him stowed away in the library, mending Aurelia’s armor in the dim light of a candle. She had all but forced him to the Warden’s room, saying it was best to get apologies out of the way now so things could go back to normal. 

As he looked at her now, he could not help but be concerned that nothing would be ‘normal’ between them again. 

Before he could even speak, she growled, “Get out.”

“Aurelia, please—”

“I said get out!” 

She was so quick. He did not see the bottle until it was a foot in front of his face. He moved to the left just in time as it crashed into the stone wall behind him.

* * *

“I wonder if we shouldn’t intercede,” Sten said gravely, his eyes not leaving the door to Aurelia’s room. “This could get bloody.”

“Oh, I’m sure Aurelia can hold her own,” Morrigan said, feigning indifference, but still she stood outside the door listening as eagerly as the rest of them. The crashes and sounds of shattering glass only intensified. 

“I’m not worried for the Warden,” Sten clarified. “If she kills the elf, however, it will be a great deal of trouble to hide his body in this city.”

Everyone else stared at Sten, horrified at the very idea, but Morrigan quipped, “I don’t know. I’m sure there are plenty of garbage piles and back alley’s that would serve as a fine disposal site. Perhaps there is a well we could make use of.”

Something shattered against the door, punctuating her statement. 

“How will we get it out of the estate without drawing undo notice?” he continued. 

Morrigan began to respond, but Wynne cut her off, “No one is dying and no one is sneaking out a body. Now, everyone, let’s give them some privacy.”

She shooed them all away with her arms and cast a worried look at the door before she too departed.

* * *

“Will you just let me try to explain,” he pleaded, but she’d already picked up another bottle. He dodged that one as well and the smell of lilacs filled the room as it shattered. 

“There is nothing to explain!” she shouted. “You _left_!”

“I know—” he started, but her hair brush was next. 

“No, you don’t know!” she grasped the handheld mirror next and aimed it at his head. “Do you know what that felt like? Just gone! Without a word, without a goodbye!”

The mirror crashed into the fireplace. He was slowly making his way towards her, ducking flying objects as he went. A part of him was relieved that she had not made a grab for her knives, but another part of him was seriously concerned she would in fact attempt to kill him. 

“I was wrong—”

“I was stupid,” she spat back. He could hear the anger in her tone change as her voice cracked. His heart dropped as he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. “So stupid to think that you’d be different. That you’d stay.”

“Aurelia—”

She reached for the stool next, but he quickly took it from her hands as she sank backwards onto the vanity, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Everyone I love is gone,” she sobbed quietly, her hands covering her face. “They’ve all gone. I should have known…”

“My love,” he said softly, taking her hands into his and pulling them away from her face. Still, she refused to look up at him. His heart broke with her. He had not stopped to think, to compare his leaving with that of the still fresh wound she carried for her family. “I acted like a child. I shouldn’t have left—"

“But you did!” she cried, her tear stained face finally looking up at him. Even in the midst of her overwhelming display of grief, she wrenched her hands from his and pounded her fists into his chest. He was surprised and slightly impressed by her strength as she threw her hands at him, not relenting as he backed up, arms raised to block her punches. “Did you even care for me at all? Was I just some toy for you to play with until you got bored and could cast me aside?”

“No! Of course not!” he tried to assure her, but she was not having it as she pushed him so hard he fell over a chair and landed in a heap on the ground. 

“Then why? Was I just a shield to protect you from the Crows? Was that it?”

As he sprang to his feet, she picked up the offending chair and held it over her head to swing at him. He avoided it narrowly and it splintered against the stone floor. 

“No, Aurelia,” he pleaded, wishing she would just stop for a moment and hear him. Sensing that would not be the case, he said quickly, “As an assassin, I had to forget about sentiment.” This did not seem to appease her. She held what was left of the chair and was approaching him quickly. “I learned to take my pleasures where I could. To expect anything more would be reckless.”

The remainder of the chair slammed against the door. 

“Reckless? So, I was just a mistake then?” her energy seemed to fail her and he could see blood beginning to stain the sleeve of her shirt. She must have ripped open her shoulder wound, he realized, as she slumped back against the bed, her hand moving to apply pressure. 

He shook his head at her quickly, but he was not sure she could see him as she turned her eyes to the fire. All light seemed to fade from her as he watched the tears fall freely from her face. 

“I thought it was the same between us,” he admitted. “Something to enjoy, a pleasant diversion and little more, and yet…”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with confusion and hurt. 

“Are you saying you’re in love with me?” she asked. Her voice was so blank he could not tell whether she was being sarcastic or earnestly hoped for an affirmative response. 

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. His chest ached with his own mixture of feelings. He wanted so desperately to ease her concerns, but he couldn’t. He could not lie to her. Until meeting her, he had never thought he would know what it felt like to be loved. The idea that he could love someone in return seemed equally as unfathomable, but the sinking feeling in his stomach as he looked upon her told him otherwise. “How do you know such a thing?”

She wiped her tears away angrily with the back of her arm and stood to face him once more, but he quickly stepped forward and gripped her arms to her side so she would not be able to pick up anymore impromptu weapons. Even as close to her as he was, she still refused to look at him and struggled weakly against his grasp. 

“I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill,” he said, his voice pleading. He needed her to hear him. He needed her to understand. “Everything I have been taught says what I feel is wrong. Yet, I cannot help it. Since we kissed, I have been nothing but confused.”

She let out a small sniffle, but still refused to meet his gaze once more. 

“Do you understand me at all?” he asked softly. 

“So, you want to end things then?” she asked as she pulled against his hands once more. “This is why you left.”

“My darling, no,” he insisted, pulling her closer to him so their chests touched. “I left because I was a jealous fool. I overheard Eamon discussing your marriage to Alistair—”

“You are indeed a child!” she shouted, her anger renewed as she wrenched herself from his grasp and pushed past him. “Do you not know a thing about me? How could you think I would go through with such a scheme?”

To his relief, she picked up no more objects and instead stood with her arms crossed facing the fire.

“I am sorry—”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” she said softly and her words tore through him. Her hand once again clutched her shoulder as she turned her back completely to him. “Get out.”

His chest tightened. A lump formed at the back of his throat and he suddenly felt as though she had punched him in the face. He wished to see her anger once again, to see her tears, but she would not even give him that luxury as they stood in silence for a minute. 

“As you wish,” he murmured before heading towards the door. His hand on the knob, he turned and said pleadingly, “All…all I want to know is if there might be some future for us, some possibility of…I do not know what.”

As he waited for her response, the silence fell over him like a heavy cloud. Just when he thought she would refuse to give him an answer, her head turned slightly and she quietly admitted, “I don’t know.”

Ducking his head, he nodded and turned back to the door.

“I—I understand. Forgive me for disturbing you.”


	21. Chapter 21

“I think the two of you have some trust issues you need to work through,” Wynne said quietly as she finished applying a new bandage to Aurelia’s shoulder. 

Aurelia sat in the chair, Mac’s head on her lap, staring into the fire. The pain from her shoulder did not hurt nearly as bad as the pain in her chest. She could still see the sad expression on his face as he asked if there was some future for them. 

“Whatever gave you that impression?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words but Wynne ignored it. 

“You have every right to be upset and angry, but do not let it turn your heart cold.” She finished tying the bandage and placed her hand gently on Aurelia’s back. “It is up to you whether or not you wish to forgive him, but he did come back to lay himself at your mercy.”

“How can I know if he’ll ever trust me?” Turning her head up to look at the older woman, Aurelia felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes once more. “He doesn’t even know if he loves me. He probably won’t even stay the remainder of the night.”

“The both of you have every reason to turn away from love,” Wynne said with a sad smile, smoothing Aurelia’s hair back from her face. “You both have felt disappointed and abandoned by those you care about, but do hold onto some hope. I think he will surprise you.”

“And if he leaves again?” Aurelia said slowly over the lump in her throat. “I’ll be alone again. I won’t ever be able to forgive him.”

“Oh, my dear,” Wynne kneeled down in front of Aurelia, placing one hand on Mac’s head and the other on top of Aurelia’s. “You have never been alone.”

* * *

Zevran found that his seat in the library had been commandeered by Alistair. The bastard prince glanced up as Zevran entered but did not relent his seat and quickly went back to finishing a stitch in Aurelia’s mangled armor. 

“How’d it go?” he asked, sounding slightly nervous. 

“I am alive,” Zevran said lightly as he sat in a chair opposite the fire. He rested his head heavily on his palm as he stared at Alistair’s hands. “Much to the displeasure of Aurelia.”

“Nah,” Alistair said, trying to sound reassuring. “If she actually wanted you dead, you would be.”

They were quiet for a time as Alistair finished up his stitch and then held it up to examine his handywork. Zevran watched him before letting a deep breath leave. 

“I’m sorry I tried to stab you,” he said finally, his eyes looking up to meet Alistair’s. 

Alistair smiled back at him, shaking his head and letting the leather fall into his lap. “Don’t mention it. I probably would have done the same in your shoes.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Zevran replied. As illogical as Alistair could be at times, Zevran had never seen the man become rash or unreasonable. Besides when arguing with Morrigan, Alistair did not seem the type to let a small suspicion enrage him to the point of hurting those who cared about him. Zevran was beginning to think that Aurelia was right. Perhaps Alistair would make a decent king after all. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Alistair said with a shrug. “But you came back, so that is what matters.”

“I’m not sure it matters at all,” Zevran said, rubbing his hand across his eyes. “I think she may prefer it if I left.”

Aurelia’s armor landed in his lap and startled him. Removing his hand from his eyes, he looked up to see Alistair standing above him, his hands on his hips. 

“Don’t even consider it,” the taller man insisted. “Or she may actually kill you.”

He patted Zevran’s shoulder and left the room, leaving the assassin alone to consider his assertion. He stared at the armor for a long while, weighing his options, before finally he picked up the needle from Alistair had left it and resumed his repairs.

* * *

When she opened her door the next morning, Aurelia found her armor neatly folded, sitting just over the threshold. She glanced around suspiciously before picking it up and returning to her room. It had been cleaned and polished. The smell of freshly cleaned leather reminded her immediately of Zevran and she bit her lip. 

Had he left yet? Was this his parting gift to her? 

As she began to unfold the armor and look at it more closely, a folded note fell from between the material. As she picked it up from the bed, she recognized the handwriting immediately. 

She held her breath as she unfolded the note, half expecting a goodbye. Instead, the words made her heart catch in her throat. 

_My sweet,_

_Tell me what I must do to earn your forgiveness and your trust once more. Tell me, and I shall spend the rest of my days atoning for the hurt I have caused you._

_Forever yours,_

_Zevran_

Despite how well he had pulled at her heartstrings with his letter, she still could not bring herself to speak with him or even to look at him. Any minute she was expecting him to leave. She was waiting for the morning she woke up not to find him there. She was waiting for the next mission they went on to be their last. 

As the days passed and the Landsmeet grew closer, she slowly came to accept that maybe Wynne was right. Maybe he would not leave. 

Every time she looked for them, he was there, at her side.

* * *

It was the night before the Landsmeet and he could not find sleep. Mac, obviously sensing the tense mood in the air, found no sleep either so the two wandered around the mansion, making their way from the kitchen to the library. 

“Won’t your mistress wonder where you’ve gotten off to?” Zevran asked the dog as he held another small piece of dried meat out for the mabari. 

Mac simply gave him a look that said in Zevran’s mind ‘none of your business’ and Zevran could not help but laugh. 

As they came around a shelf in the library, he stopped short, seeing Aurelia sitting at a desk, her journal open. She was wearing a robe, tied loosely over her nightshirt, her hair held back from her face with a ribbon. His breath caught as he saw her. She glanced up when she heard his laughter and their eyes met for the briefest of moments before she quickly looked to Mac. 

“Where have you been all night?” she asked the dog. Mac trotted over to her, looking guilty as he rested his head on the arm of her chair. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting, I will just…” he did not finish his sentence as he turned to go. 

They had not spoken since the night they rescued her from Fort Drakon. She had not even met his eyes, no matter how often he found himself staring at her. She had made no mention of the note that he had left. Zevran was at a loss for how to re-earn her trust, but he knew that forcing her to talk with him would do nothing except incite another argument so he would instead wait for her to speak and not force the issue. 

As he turned, however, he heard her quiet voice calling his name. 

“Zevran,” she said his name barely louder than a whisper. 

He turned back towards her, his stomach tying itself into knots. Was this it? Was this when she would banish him? He did not feel as though he could let out the breath he was holding as he waited for her to speak. 

Standing up, she sat her journal in the chair. She walked towards him, but stopped out of arms reach as she folded her hands tightly around her. 

“If you ever leave again without saying goodbye,” she said, her eyes meeting his once again. This time she held his gaze and Zevran felt like his chest might explode from the tension. He could easily read the hurt and determination in her gaze as her voice shook. “I will never forgive you.”

He wanted to speak, but she went on before he could assure her that he would not leave. That he would stay forever by her side if she let him. 

“I-I don’t know if there is a future for us,” she said, her voice still shaky, but a new emotion flashed across her eyes. Hope, Zevran realized and he let go of the breath he was holding. “I don’t even know if there is a future for any of us should we fail to defeat the blight…but I do know how I feel about you.”

He could not respond as he began to take long breaths to calm himself. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Was she—

“Maker’s bloody ass,” she cursed before blurting out, “Don’t you get it? I’m in love with you! I know you don’t—”

He did not let her finish. His hand was already on her neck, pulling her lips down to meet his. He felt her gasp against his lips and was filled with worry that he had overstepped her boundaries yet again, that this was not what she wanted, but her arms moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. His hand left her face and traveled downwards, skimming over her breasts and tugging at the tie of her robe. When it fell open, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and began walking backwards until the desk stopped them. 

She growled at him as he deposited her onto it. He spread her legs so he could stand between them and pushed her shift up to her waist. Seeing she wore nothing underneath made his breath catch yet again. 

Her hand held his chin suddenly and forced him to look into her eyes. “Don’t you dare leave me again,” she said warningly. 

“Never,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as he untied the laces of his breeches. As he thrust into her, he pulled his lips away and looked into her beautiful eyes. “I am yours.”


	22. Chapter 22

Her chest was pressed against his side as they lay in bed, listening to the guards on the wall as sleep eluded them both. Her lip was between her teeth and her fingers made thoughtless patterns across his chest. Not even the comforting feeling of his hand making circles on her back comforted her. 

She had thought that confessing her feelings to him would alleviate the anxiety that coursed through her like a poison. Even though their reunion had gone much better than even she could have hoped, it still did not quiet her mind. 

“What is it, my love?” Zevran asked, his other hand moving to her cheek. She glanced up at him and saw worry reflected in his eyes as he stared at her. “Are you still displeased with me? Should I leave you?”

“No,” she assured him quickly. “Please, don’t go.” 

If she had any hope of getting sleep tonight, it would only be with him by her side. She had slept terribly these past days without him there to quiet her dreams and reassure her with his closeness. 

“Then what is it?” he asked again. “Are you concerned about the Landsmeet?”

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice quiet. She had played out all the possible outcomes in her mind repeatedly. What if Loghain did not step down? What if the other nobility did not support Alistair? What if Alistair refused the throne? “What if I don’t make the right choice?”

“I cannot see how you wouldn’t,” Zevran pondered, his fingers lazily playing with her hair. “I do not think there is a wrong choice to be made. Any outcome will help secure resources against the Blight, yes?”

She laid there silent, wondering if he was right, her teeth still worrying her bottom lip. 

“That is unless you happen to offend every noble in Ferelden and they turn on you,” he went on. “Even in that case, I will defend you to the death. Or we can make a quick escape to Orlais. It is rather nice this time of year.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” she asked, looking up at him again, this time with an incredulous look. 

“Because, I have you by my side,” he said simply, smiling at her. “I have never known you to make a choice you could not be proud of and stand behind after the fact. Whatever it is you decide, I will follow your lead.”

“I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, pressing her face into his shoulder. 

“Banish the thought, my love,” he retorted. 

He placed a kiss on the top of her head before suddenly his body pulled out from underneath her. She sat up on her elbow, staring at him with concern. Was he leaving? She wondered as he reached for his breaches. Her heart sank, but he simply pulled something from the pocket and laid back down beside her.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw he held out the earring to her, the one that she had refused. She took it in her hands and examined it once again before looking up into his eyes. 

“Are you distracting me with pretty jewelry now?”

“Perhaps,” he said with a small smile. “I would like to give it to you. As a--” he paused and visibly swallowed. “As a token of affection. Will you take it?” 

“That sounds like a proposal,” she joked lightly as she moved her fingers to see the different angles of the gold. 

“Not unless you wish it.”

His voice was low and serious. She tore her eyes away from the earring to look into his face. There wasn’t a hint of humor or joking in his expression and it made her heart clench. Did he truly mean it? This was probably going to be the closest she ever came to getting a proposal out of Zevran, she realized, and she smiled at him as she placed the earring back in his hand. 

She moved her hair behind her ear and leaned towards him. “Put it on me then.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teased as he placed the small hoop onto her lobe. 

Aurelia reached her hand up to feel the earring. It felt so strange to be wearing something on her ear. She could not remember the last time she’d worn one. It was at least a year ago, probably at one of her mother’s friend’s parties where she’d been expected to play the lady. 

“I’m sorry for acting so badly,” he said as he stroked his fingers down her arm. 

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you with my hairbrush.”

* * *

Zevran sensed the growing unease in the crowd. It was rolling off the Arls and Banns like a wave. Alistair and Leliana were visibly anxious as they moved from foot to foot. It appeared only Morrigan and he remained unaffected. The witch was picking her fingernails as if they were simply waiting for a ferry to arrive. She never seemed to be concerned about much of anything, something Zevran admired about her. 

For himself, he was far too busy being impressed with their fearless leader to feel concern. 

He had always enjoyed watching her take control and give orders, but this. This was a new level entirely. 

Any other person he knew – well, besides perhaps Morrigan – would be wrought with apprehension at the idea of speaking before such a crowd, especially the Landsmeet. There was not a hint of anxiety in her voice as she projected her words across the large room. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride as he realized that her persuasiveness was getting the better of her peers. All but one of the noble’s had sided with the Warden. 

There was a victorious smile playing at her lips as her eyes scanned the room. Her eyes met his and he smiled back, beaming with pride. 

There success was short lived, however, as Loghain drew his sword. Smile instantly fading, Zevran drew his own blades and moved to stand in front of Aurelia, catching the general’s sword against his own. 

_Fight to the death it is then,_ he thought as he ducked a swing from Loghain and swiped both of his blades at the man’s knees.

* * *

“How could you do this to me?” Alistair yelled.

Aurelia was taken completely off guard. Moment’s before she had been celebrating with the rest of their friends, waiting impatiently for their new ‘king,’ yet as soon as Alistair had walked into the room he began yelling. 

“You knew I didn’t want to be king!” he continued, his arms waving to emphasize his words. “Yet you did this anyways! I hope you’re happy.”

He turned to storm back out of the room and Aurelia made to follow him. 

“Al, wait—” she called after him, but Zevran placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him and he simply shook his head. 

“Leave him,” he whispered. “I’ll go talk to him.”


	23. Chapter 23

Alistair was thrashing his sword against the dummy so fiercely, Zevran wondered what would break first: the dummy or Alistair’s arm. 

“Careful,” Zevran warned as he took a perch on the fence surrounding the practice yard. “If you continue furrowing your brow so deeply, you’ll get wrinkles. And I’ve heard people much prefer a handsome King.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Alistair bellowed as he rounded on Zevran. 

“Ah, a tempting offer, your majesty, but I’m afraid my current bedfellow would not be pleased if I slept with her fellow warden,” Zevran drawled in response, arching an eyebrow as Alistair glared at him menacingly. 

“Just—leave me alone,” Alistair huffed as he made to stalk out of the yard. 

“Would you have rather she let Anora remain queen?” Zevran asked lightly, pretending that there was something very intriguing under his finger nails as he felt Alistair’s glare return to him. “Or better yet, that she had let Loghain live?”

“She wouldn’t have done that!” Alistair retorted. 

“But what other option would she have had?” Zevran feigned realization and looked at Alistair with wide eyes. “Oh, I know! Naming a bastard prince as King instead.”

“She could have let Anora remain Queen and still have killed Loghain,” the taller man grumbled as he kicked at the dirt with his boot. 

“Really? Because I’m not so certain your fair former queen would have taken kindly to the murder of her father,” Zevran pointed out. He folded his arms over his chest and surveyed Alistair with narrowed eyes. “Would she have given her armies to fight the Blight then?”

Alistair took one last swing at the dummy, causing hay to fluff out of the chest. “At least Anora knew what she was doing. I’m going to make a terrible—”

“Aurelia does not seem to think so,” Zevran contradicted him quietly. Alistair turned to look at him sheepishly and Zevran jumped down from the fence to move beside the tall man. He looked up at his face and gave him a lopsided smile. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll fuck it up too badly. 

“Gee,” Alistair groaned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Any time, my friend,” Zevran said lightly, clapping Alistair on the shoulder as he turned to walk away. “Oh, and I would think twice if I were you about yelling at the one woman in Thedas who may be willing to offer you some advice on courting nobles.”

“I’ve got Arl Eamon for that, thank you,” Alistair called after him. 

“Eamon may know politics, but Aurelia has special insight into the,” Zevran wiggled his eyebrows as he walked backwards, grinning widely at the new king. “Fairer sex. As king, you’ll have to start practicing making heirs—”

Zevran narrowly missed the dummy’s head as it flew past his face.

* * *

“What did you say to him?” Aurelia asked, her voice sounding skeptical. “He still won’t speak to me. Did you even say anything helpful?”

They were halfway through their march back to Redcliffe, but Alistair still remained as sullen as he’d been when the Landsmeet was over. 

Zevran looked offended as he turned to her. “I said many helpful things,” he hissed. “I guarantee you he is mulling them over as we—”

“Can I speak with you?” 

Aurelia and Zevran both looked up in surprise as Alistair met their stride. Aurelia glanced at Zevran who quirked his eyebrows knowingly. She felt annoyance rising in her at his cocky expression, but all she could do was wrinkle her nose at him as he slowed his pace. 

“Leliana,” he called as he hung back for a pace to let the wardens walk on. “You have yet to teach me that dirty Orlesian diddy as you promised!”

She could not help but roll her eyes lightly and when she finally looked over at Alistair, she realized he had had the same reaction and let out a small laugh. 

“I don’t know how you can stand him sometimes,” Alistair mumbled. 

“He has his charms,” Aurelia said with a small shrug. 

“I’m sure,” Alistair said before heaving a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment, staring at his feet as they walked. “For yelling at you like I did. I know that you did what you thought was best.”

Aurelia could only stare at him for a few moments, feeling very impressed – and slightly put out – that Zevran had been right after all, but also relieved that they would not face the final part of their battle against the Blight not speaking. 

“I really do think you’re going to make a great king,” she assured him, her voice serious. 

His eyes met hers, his face skeptical. “Really?”

“I do.” She smiled at him and her tone took on a more teasing candor. “And if you aren’t, we’ll just find you a much smarter wife to run the country for you.”

He groaned and dragged his hand down his face. 

“I’ve got a cousin from the Stormcoast, but she’s much too young and I’m not certain whether or not you prefer blondes—”

“The two of you,” Alistair huffed, waving from her to Zevran, who by now was singing loudly with Leliana from behind them. “Give the worst pep talks I’ve ever heard in my life.”

* * *

He let out a loud sigh as he made his way down the corridor to her room. The drink he’d shared with Oghren had not settled his mind about what was to come. They had only just arrived at Redcliffe and now they would need to turn around and head back to Denerim. 

Zevran was not a man who thought of the future, who worried about what was to come next. In fact, he had spent all his life living from one moment to the next, waiting for death to spring from around every corner. The reality that he could meet the Black God at any minute had never scared him. 

Until tonight. 

His mind was filled with images of what they would face once they reached the capital again. Would they be able to end the Blight? How many would they lose in the attempt? Would he lose—

Just as he thought her name, she appeared through the doorway to her room, shutting it soundly behind her. She leaned against it for a moment, taking a slow breath through her mouth. She looked as though she’d witnessed something horrible. 

“Aurelia, my love,” he said as he approached her. “What is it?”

Relief flooded her eyes as she saw him approaching. Pushing away from the door, she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him back down the hallway from whence he came. 

“We can’t go in there,” she said so quickly he almost did not understand her words. 

“Are you hiding another lover from m—”

“Alistair and Morrigan are having sex in there,” she said seriously and tugged his hand harder as they headed down the stairwell back to the first floor. “C’mon.”

He was still laughing as they entered the Arl’s study. He held onto his stomach as he doubled over, still trying to rid his mind of the image of Morrigan and Alistair together. 

“Now, sweet warden,” he said between giggles as he took deep breaths to calm himself. He wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes and stood up straight to look at her. “Tell me, what is truly going on in your room?”

She did not answer and instead wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his shoulder. When he felt the wetness of her tears against his neck, his laughter immediately stopped. 

“Aurelia,” he said, worry breaking into his voice. He rested his hands on her back and tried to look at her face, but she would not remove her face from its hiding spot. “My darling, whatever is the matter? I left you for an hour and I find you like this? What is it?”

“To defeat an archdemon,” she hiccupped. “A grey warden has to die.”

It felt like his heart had stopped. His fingers gripped into her shoulders, wondering if he had heard correctly. 

“The soul or spirit or whatever will seek out another darkspawn, but because we drank the taint,” her words became muffled against his shoulder and he quickly pulled her away from him so he could see her face. Her grey eyes were bright with tears and she still held onto his waist as if it were the last thing holding her to this earth. “The archdemon will enter one of us. That’s why only grey wardens can—can—”

She rubbed the snot from her nose as he quickly moved his hands to her cheeks and wiped the tears that had stained them. 

“Morrigan says that if Alistair sleeps with her, she can…” she did not finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. Zevran understood as best as he could. He felt overwhelmed with information and did not know where to begin processing. A grey warden had to die? Morrigan would what, take the taint into herself? Morrigan and Alistair were actually having sex as they spoke? The thought made him shake his head. 

“You trust that she is telling the truth?” he asked quietly. 

Aurelia could only nod as she sniffled again. Finally, she met his eyes and her frown deepened. 

“I’m sorry I told you all this,” she said. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Shush,” he silenced her. He pulled her back to him, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and holding her head against his shoulder with another. “You can always tell me what worries you, my love. Your worries are also mine.”

They stood like that for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts as they hugged each other tightly. His own went back to the dark thoughts he had been thinking prior to running into her in the hallway. The idea of losing her now seemed to be an imminent reality. What if Morrigan’s ritual did not work? What if Alistair decided not to go through with it? 

As if sensing his concerns, she pulled her head from his shoulder and pressed her lips against his. It was a tender, gentle kiss at first, but her hands climbed to his neck and held him close to her as she opened her mouth to taste him. 

“My sweet,” he whispered, breaking the kiss. “You should rest.”

“No,” she said forcefully, as he fingers moved to undo the straps of his armor. “This may be the last chance we get to be alone.”

His mind finished her thought. Their last chance to be alone before battle? Before one of them may fall? Before the world ended as they knew it? 

She kissed him again, chasing away such thoughts and he pulled her down onto the floor. He laid her on her back atop the carpet and began removing her armor and clothing piece by piece. With each item he pulled away, he laid a kiss upon the newly exposed skin. Her sigh of contentment was enough to ease his mind though it did not make him wish less that he could worship every inch of her in the time they had. 

As he wriggled her out of her small clothes, he moved between her thighs, trailing kisses up the soft skin before moving his mouth to her core. She bucked against him and he held tightly to her hips as he stroked his tongue along her exposed lips. 

“Zevran,” she whined softly, gripping his arms and pulling him up to her. 

She made expert work of removing the last of his clothing before flipping them so she sat astride his hips. He barely had time to appreciate the view of her on top of him when she took him in hand and sank down upon him. Her eyes did not leave his as she rode him, her hand pressed onto his stomach to steady herself. He could not bring himself to look away as his own hand trailed up her stomach, over her breasts, and rested against her cheek. 

“I love you,” she whispered and his heart felt as though it would burst. 

Not able to bring himself to respond, he pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her against him as they forgot the world for the time being and became lost in each other.


	24. Chapter 24

_You should only bring three people with you._

Riordan’s instructions weighed heavy on her as she stood apart from the group, watching them all as they prepared for battle. 

Only three. 

The thought of facing the archdemon without all of them at her side made her heart ache. This could very well be the last time she saw all of them. The three she chose could easily be the people she died beside. Her lower lip got caught between her teeth as she weighed the decision.

Her eyes inevitably met Zevran’s. His face was serious and unreadable as he wiped the blood from his blades, but his eyes watched her. It felt as though he had not taken them off her since they left the Arl’s study that morning. 

Would that be the last night they spent together? Would this be the last time they spoke? 

As much as she desired to bring him with her to face the archdemon, she replayed the moment at the Landsmeet when he had jumped between her and Loghain’s sword. She could hear his voice in her head.

_I will defend you to the death._

At the time, she had thought it had been more of his silly, meaningless words that he liked to shower her with, but as she looked back upon their time together, she came to understand that they had not been meaningless. Every compliment, every inuendo, every vow of loyalty had been true. While he had not put his feelings for her into words, she knew that he would make good on his promise given the opportunity. 

When she had drunk the taint during her joining, she had not feared death and that still was true. However, what she did fear was the thought that he may perish. That he would willingly sacrifice his life to save hers. 

She could not let him do it. For what she realized in that moment as she met his gaze was that what she feared most in this world, was him not being in it. 

“Alistair,” she said, making her voice sound as sure as she could. “Wynne, and Sten.”

* * *

His eyes still did not leave her as she made her way among her companions – their friends – to say her final goodbyes. 

There was a pressure in his chest that he had never felt before. It was similar to the panicked, stricken feeling he had when she’d been angry with him or when he’d thought she and Alistair were involved, but it was different. It hurt to even look at her, but he could not tear his eyes away for fear she would disappear without telling him farewell. A reasonable pay back for the time he had done so to her. 

As she approached him, the tightness of his heart only increased. Her face was stern and set, but he could see in her grey eyes that she too must be feeling something similar to him. Her eyes held his as she stopped in front of him and he reached out to hold her hands in his. They shook slightly as he stared down at them.

“So, here we part ways,” he said, surprised at the sadness he heard in his own voice. “You do not wish me to stand beside you,” he paused and looked up into her eyes once more. “In the end?”

“I,” her voice faltered, but she took a breath and insisted. “I do not wish to put you in that kind of danger.”

“Oh, now you worry about my health?” The laugh that left him was slightly forced as he squeezed her hands once more. “In truth,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to rest against her cheek. He caressed her skin with his thumb. “For the chance to stand by your side, I would storm the Dark City itself.” Pulling her close to him, he kissed her gently. “Never doubt it.”

She rested her forehead against his and their eyes both shut. They remained like that for a few moments, their hands gripping the other’s tightly. The time passed too quickly and soon the spell was broken. 

“Aurelia!” he heard Wynne call and she pulled away from him. 

She squeezed his hand before letting go. She ran her hand down his cheek briefly before she whispered, “Whatever happens…know that I love you.”

With one last kiss, she turned to go. He released her only reluctantly and heard himself say as she walked away, “Cruel to the end.”

She glanced back at him, a small grin tugging at her lips and he could not help but return her smile. 

All too soon, she disappeared through the gates and was gone.

* * *

Her weapons were missing, somewhere strewn across the carnage, forgotten as she’d moved from one ballista to the next. Adrenalin was pumping through her veins, helping her to ignore the burning in her face and the blood that trailed down from her nose, into her mouth. 

The rest of her friends did not look much better. Wynne was weakly firing off bolts with what remained of her mana. Empty potion bottles lay around her. Sten and Alistair were both holding off another surge of darkspawn as Aurelia aimed her shot. Their dwarven allies had dwindled in numbers and her heart surged with guilt. 

How much longer could they last?

She let the bolt fly from the ballista and another rush spread through her as she realized her shot had been true. It sank into the side of the archdemon. The roar it emitted as it fell to the ground reverberated across the tower, causing them all to shake on their feet. 

It was down and she was weaponless. She looked to Sten or Alistair but they both were distracted and outnumbered. 

_So, this was it,_ she thought to herself as she stared across the body strewn roof top. _How in the Maker’s name did I get here?_

She suddenly realized that all those people who said your life flashed before your eyes when you were about to die were right. In the moment it took her to make her decision, she saw all of it. 

Fergus presenting her with her first short sword. Her mother’s constant pushing and lessons. Her father’s encouraging and proud voice as she trained Mac. Aldous telling her the story of Sophia Dryden. Holding Oren for the first time. Their bodies, all their bodies, strewn across the castle. Standing alone with Alistair on top of that tower in Ostagar. Listening to Morrigan’s stories by her fire. Leliana giving her lessons on the lute. Sten smiling at her for the first time. Oghren giving her advice on how to hold her liquor. Wynne smoothing her hair as she cried. Laughing at Shale’s sarcastic jokes. 

And Zevran. _Zevran._

She looked to her companions and she was shocked as the moments they had turned from allies in fighting the blight to _friends_ rushed through her mind in a dizzying montage. Her friends, now the people who cared about her most in this world. Who had shown her that life was not just an endless trudge into nothing. 

That she was not alone. 

They had stood by her when even she had doubted their ability to end this. She would do whatever was in her power to prove their loyalty to her was worth the sacrifice. They had brought her back from the dead and she would gladly offer up her own life to see to it that they could live. 

As she took a deep breath and sprang from ballista, she heard Alistair yell her name, but she ignored him. 

Wrenching a dwarven sword from the body of a darkspawn, _his_ face appeared in her mind’s eye. The fond smile that she knew was reserved only for her. Rather then stop her, he encouraged her on. Sword at her side, clutched firmly in both hands, as she charged at the archdemon. 

It saw her coming, letting out another roar at her approach, but she steadied herself. 

“Look for the weakness,” she reminded herself as she ran as fast as she could. 

And there it was. 

The archdemon reared its head and made to snap its jaw at her, but right when its teeth were within a foot of her face, she dropped to her knees and slid beneath it. Its mouth clamped into air as she raised her sword and cut into its exposed neck, leaving a long trail of blood flowing onto the stones.

She rolled away from the beast and sprang back to her feet just in time to avoid being crushed by the weight of it as it fell to the ground. She leaned on her knees for a moment, panting for breath. 

“Finish it!” she heard someone yell, not certain whether it was Alistair or someone else. Without further hesitation, she collected the last reserves of her strength and walked towards the archdemon. 

This was it, she thought as she pulled the sword above her head. Moment of truth. Either Morrigan’s ritual had worked and this would make one hell of a story going forward in life or she would die atop this tower like they should have at Ostagar. 

Harsh karma, she thought, a grimace forming on her lips. 

“For fuck’s sake, just kill it already!”

That was definitely Alistair that time, she realized, and she let out a small sigh as she plunged the sword into the archdemon’s neck. The world suddenly turned a bright white and her last thought before consciousness left her was _Maker, let him be safe._


	25. Chapter 25

One of Leliana’s arrows whizzed past his head to strike the darkspawn that was approaching him, but Zevran’s arms fell to his side as he stared up at the tower of Fort Drakon. 

He was not the only one who stopped to stare. Leliana stayed her bow and came to stand beside them as they both looked up in awe. 

“Andraste, what is that?” she breathed as the stick of light grew further up into the night sky. 

Someone knocked against his shoulder and kept running. When Zevran wrenched his eyes from the bright light, he glanced over and realized it was a darkspawn. It was running away. He glanced around, stunned to find that the entire horde was running from the city, paying no mind to the elves, dwarves, and humans that stood shocked, watching them flee. 

“Leliana—” he started to point out the change in events to her, but he was interrupted as an explosion of light flew from the top of the tower, sending shock waves into the city below. 

Leliana gripped his shoulder to steady her feet. Her voice was one of amazement as she whispered, “Thank the Maker. She’s done it!”

Zevran did not respond. By the time she finished her sentence, he had already sheathed his daggers and took off running. He pushed back darkspawn as they fled in the opposite direction of his feet, paying no mind to the jubilant cheers that sprang up around him city or the few skirmishes that remained as their allies picked off the remaining darkspawn as he rushed through the. 

There was only one nagging concern eating at him. He needed to see her. He needed to know that she was safe. He needed to see for himself that she was—

_Alive._

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw them coming down the stairs of the Fort. She clung heavily to Sten who supported her around the waist. Alistair and Wynne were not far behind, limping down the stairs. Her head hung down and her matted hair curtained her face. All he could do was stand and watch, relief and concern flooding him in equal measure. The amount of emotions that sored through him were paralyzing. 

Sten saw him first and he nudged Aurelia slightly. When Aurelia looked up at the qunari, he pointed across the plaza and her eyes met his. She smiled, and despite the blood and grime that covered her face, he felt his heart miss a beat. 

He went to her then. Sten deposited her into his arms and she clung to his shoulders to stay upright. His hand attempted to wipe the blood from her face, but he quickly realized that her nose was broken and there was a large gash moving from her hairline back across her scalp. 

“You look awful,” she said before he could say the same and he let out a loud laugh. 

“And you, my love, are not fit to be seen out in public,” he countered. 

Her laugh brought a smile spreading across his face as he wrapped his arm around her waist to support her. She looked as though she was going to say something, but suddenly a body propelled itself against them both, causing them to stagger. 

“We’re alive! Thank the stone!” Oghren said as he molded himself against their side. 

Zevran felt two paws land on his back right before Mac lunged up to lick Aurelia’s face. 

“You did it!” Leliana shouted gleefully as she pulled them all into a tight hug. 

“No,” Aurelia said between giggles. “We did it.”

* * *

“Do you find me hideous now?” 

She glanced at Zevran as he stood in front of the mirror, pulling a comb through his hair. His eyes met hers in the glass and he gave her a stern look. 

“Yes. In fact, your nose was the only part of you that I found attractive,” he teased. “Now that it’s ever so slightly crooked, I shall have to find another lover whose nose has not been broken.”

“It’s not too bad, is it?” she asked as she went to stand behind him, turning her head to look at the reflection of her face from multiple angles. 

Wynne had been able to heal the large gash in her forehead and her broken nose, but her mana had been so drained that she could do nothing to stop a scar from forming across her hairline. And her poor nose. Her mother would have been so annoyed with her. _Why were you not wearing head gear?_ she could hear her mother scolding. 

“I should get a proper helmet,” she murmured as she prodded at her nose again. 

“It’s fine,” he assured her. “Stop poking at it or you’ll rebreak it.”

“Will I?!” she took a sharp breath, looking at him with worry, but he simply shook his head at her. 

“Are you two done preening, yet?” 

Leliana burst into their room without knocking, one hand on the door knob and the other on the jamb as she leaned in to rush them along. 

“Will you hurry up already? There’s a crowd waiting!”

As quickly as she came, she was gone, leaving the door open and trotting down the corridor towards the great hall. Aurelia could not help but let out a loud sigh. She did not know if she was ready to face the growing onslaught of relieved city dwellers and others who had come to see her face in the flesh. 

“I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive Alistair,” she sighed as Zevran set the comb down on the vanity and placed an arm around her waist, guiding her to the door. “You know this is his doing, don’t you? Hero of Fereldan my ass. It’s payback.” 

As they made their way lazily down the corridor after Leliana, she moved his arm around his shoulder. 

“I’m not sure which one of you will be more infamous in the generations to come,” he said thoughtfully. “Though it is rather amusing to think each of you will have been responsible for the notoriety of the other. What will be your revenge? Naming him Empress of Orlais?”

She chuckled slightly, imagining Alistair in one of those fancy masks and a large ball gown. 

“Perhaps.”

They walked on in silence until they neared the door. She could hear the crowd on the other side and took a deep breath, preparing herself for what was to come. She felt more anxious than she had when she’d killed the archdemon. 

Zevran’s hand was suddenly in hers, halting her advance. Turning back to look at him, his expression was unreadable. 

“I heard you talking to Sten earlier,” he began. “You intend on leaving for Seheron in the morning, yes?”

She squeezed his hand and moved to tuck a stray strand of blonde hair back behind his ear. 

“Only if you’re coming with me,” she said seriously. 

She felt guilty as she realized she had not even bothered to ask; she had just assumed that he would join her on this next adventure. Perhaps he would be on his way now? After all, he had fulfilled his oath to her. She frowned at the thought, but was relieved as he smiled at her brightly, his other hand moving back to her waist as he pulled her against him. 

“Naturally,” he told her, grinning up at her face. Relief washed over her and she smiled back. “You have caught me and now you’re stuck with me. Sad, I know, but we’ll manage somehow.”

“Yes,” she said as she lowered her face towards his for a kiss. “We’ll manage.”

* * *

_Seven Months Later_

It was one of those days where Aurelia spent far too much time day dreaming about what method of torture she would use against Alistair when she saw him next. 

It had rained all the way back from Amaranthine. To make the walk more enjoyable, Anders and Velanna had thrown barbs at each other the entire time. Imaging Alistair being flocked by mothers with eligible daughters was the only way she could tune the mages out. 

As they made their way through the gates to the keep, she glanced over at Nathaniel. He met her gaze and rolled his eyes up into his head. She smiled at him and chuckled slightly. She was certain his thoughts of annoyance closely mimicked her own. 

It was only because of the rain that she was able to avoid an onslaught of demands and new tasks from those who usually milled about in the courtyard. They all seemed to be keeping cover as she trudged her way through the mud to the stairs. 

“Warden-Commander!” the courier called to her as she placed her foot on the first step. 

Sighing, she turned wearily to the woman, not able to hide the chagrin from her face. She’d been so close to making it to the Keep without being tracked down. 

“This just arrived for you this morning,” the woman explained as she handed her a folded letter with a nondescript seal. 

“Thank you,” Aurelia murmured before heading back towards the door. 

When she was safe from the rain, she pushed her hood back from her face and shook the water from it. Removing her gloves, she tucked them into her belt and broke the seal on the letter with the dagger from her waist. As she walked towards the main hall, she opened it and her face immediately lit up when she recognized the scrawling handwriting. 

“Good news?” Nathaniel asked curiously, arching an eyebrow at the bright smile that now covered her lips. 

“Great news,” she replied. 

Turning to look over her shoulder at her companions, she ordered, “Go get something to eat. If you two can continue talking with your mouths full, I’ll be impressed.” Velanna looked offended, but Anders simply shook his head at her as Nathaniel chuckled. 

By the time she reached her room, she’d read and reread the letter a dozen times, but each time her smile only widened. 

It had been a month since they’d parted at Highever, Aurelia heading for Vigil’s Keep and Zevran bound for a boat back to Antiva. He had promised her that he would write to her as soon as he made it to Antiva City, but it had been so long, she’d begun to worry that he had forgotten her, that now that they were separated for this first time since he’d first kissed her a little over a year ago, he would realize his promises of staying by her side no longer mattered. 

Her fingers toyed with the gold loop hanging from her ear as she flopped onto the bed. His voice was clear in her mind as she reread his words again. 

_I would prefer to be where you are, my sweet._


End file.
